All That Glitters is Not Gold
by Do Not Even Try
Summary: There's nothing wrong with having dreams. But there is something to be said about those who let their dreams turn into obsessions and their obsessions turn into them. Sequel to Forgetting You.
1. Gone

**A/n: This is the SEQUEL to "Forgetting You". If you have not completely read that story, this will most likely make no sense. Just a warning :). Okay so now the basics for you guys still reading: this is set 14 years into the future. The middle part is emails. Most of the exposition will be known by chapter two. This is going to be very different from the other stories in this sequel. It's actually darker than the others, but in different ways. It IS rated TEEN. Which means there will be teen rated material (obviously). So yea, nothing really more to say here so kick back and (hopefully) enjoy the sequel. Thanks to SVUlover who is going to beta the story and daisy617 who gave me her wonderful opinion on the chapter and plot line :)**

**Disclaimer: I hate repeating myself. If you have any doubt that I don't own Hannah Montana, see the disclaimer in "Kidnapped Socks". **

* * *

"Miley?"

I jumped. All around me, the house was completely silent. Except for the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs. Before then, I'd been sitting in the dark, painfully silent attic. It was so silent that I seemed to have a loud, permanent ringing in my ears. I quickly shoved the photo album back into it's box. Once it was in there, I shoved the box underneath the open space in the floor and placed the floorboard back over it.

"Miley? Are you in here?"

The footsteps were climbing up the attic stairs. I stood up and dusted the dirt off my jeans as a dark brown head emerged from the staircase and came into view. I smiled at her.

"Hey." She said as she smiled back. She walked over and hugged me before stepping back and brushing a few dark curls away from her face.

"Hey, Emily. When did you get here?" I asked, pushing some of my hair behind my left ear.

She walked over and sat down on a wooden box. She reached over and picked up another box, different from the one I'd just stashed into the floorboards. This one was cardboard, and happen to hold my son, Cole's, baby pictures inside of it. She fingered the top lightly before opening it and taking the first stack of pictures out. She smiled slightly as she shuffled through them.

I got the feeling she needed to talk about something. Having no mother of her own, she often came to either me or Lilly. I sat down beside her.

"Is he still locked up in his room?" She asked me, meaning Cole. I nodded and rolled my eyes,

"Yes. He's completely overly dramatic. Hasn't come out for two whole days. I'm still not sure why he's locked himself in."

She looked up at me. My blue eyes met her soft, hazel ones.

"Miley," she started, "how did you know when you were in love? Not that I am, I'm just curious."

I smiled at her and moved her curls out of her face. They had a habit of falling back into that spot.

"I just knew, and you will also. Don't worry yourself about all that, you've got plenty of time to figure it all out."

"Emily? Miley?" Heavier footsteps were coming up the stairs. Emily placed the pictured back into the box and shut it gently.

Oliver stepped into the attic, looking completely uncomfortable.

"I can not stand this attic. It's probably full of bats...and...and cancer causing fumes..." He shuddered. Emily giggled and stood up, hugging her ridiculous father. He hugged her back, and his eyes drifted from me to the floorboard. Did he know?

"Hey, Em, why don't you go see if Cole is ready to stop being dramatic and come out of his room?" Oliver suggested to his fourteen year old daughter. She nodded and waved at us before exiting the attic.

"She's getting more beautiful every day," I said, nodding my head in the direction Emily just was. Oliver nodded his head in agreement,

"Well, I am her father, aren't I?" He grinned as he sat down where Emily was formerly.

"Still looking, huh?" He looked pointedly at the loose floorboard. My cheeks flushed, and I stood up. My hands nervously smoothed my shirt out as I said,

"That's none of your business. I'm going to make Cole leave his room."

With that I left the attic, leaving Oliver behind.

* * *

**To: Cole Ryan**

**From: Michael Hodgens**

**CC:**

**Subject: Where are you?**

Where are you man?

Listen, I know that thing with Jessica didn't work but you've been up in that room for two days now. You're going to fail ninth grade, and I'm not going to give you a place to crash when your mom flips out. So get out of that damn room, let the dog out, and go call her!

...this is about Jess right?

* * *

**To: Cole Ryan**

**From: Jessica Smites**

**CC: Jennifer Jones**

**Subject: YOU!**

CODY COLE RYEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I CANT BELIEVE U AND WAT U DID WIT DAT GURL AT THE SK8 PARK NAMED JENNY!!!!1!!!1!!!! I SENT A COPY COPY (CC) 2 HER BOUT THIS THING AND I HOPE SHE GETS IT AND CRIES CAUSE WAT SHE IS IS MEAN AND SELFLESSISH! SHE NEW DAT ME AND U WERE TIGT AND SHE WENT AND TOOK U FRM ME ANYWAIZE 1!!!!!! SHE NOT EVEN DAT PRETY!!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!!! SHE JUST A EMO SKATIN TOMBOY AND I RELE CANT BELEEVE DAT U CHOOSE HER OVA ME!!!!!!!!!

ALSO COLE I HAVE A QUESTION FOR U!!!!! UR MOM IS LIKE BARELY 20 AND SHE MADE A XMAS CD THAT MY MOM KEEPS LISTENIN 2 ON REPEAT MAKING ME WANT TO PULL OUT MY HURR AND KILL MY SELF DOESNT UR MOM NOW DAT ONLY OLD WASHED UP SINGERS MAKE XMAS CDS!!!!???!?!?! SHES STILL YUNG AND FAMUS, SHE SHULD BE MAKIN HER OWN CDS!!!!! CULD U PLEEZE TELL HER DIS OR GIMME HER EMAIL SO I CAN? I DONT THINK SHE NOES MUCH BOUT FAME BUT LUCKY 4 HER I DO SO I CAN TELL HER SO SHE DONT ROIN HER CAREAR. THANKS!!!!1!!!

OH YEA!!!! I H8 U! DONT EVA TALK 2 ME AGAN BUT MAKE SURE 2 WRITE ME BAK CAUSE I NEED 2 TLK 2 U OR ILL CRY :(

LUV U,

JESS!!!!!1!!!!

* * *

**To: Cole Ryan**

**From: Jennifer James**

**CC:**

**Subject: Pain**

I think I just got an email from a blond, mentally disabled crow.

It was painful to read, and I think I have a tumor in my brain now.

Seriously, who gave her my email address?

Because if it was you, Cole, I will kill you.

That's not a threat. It's a promise.

* * *

**To: Jessica Smites**

**From: Cole Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: leave me alone**

My name is CADEN Cole RYAN.

And how can you not believe it? Jenny can spell my name and the word "you".

And she also doesn't eat her punctuation.

CC means carbon copy, you retard.

I think you mean selfish...?

My mother is 31_thankyouverymuch_.

And shut the hell up about her.

she doesn't need tips from someone who can't even spell "career".

And if you dare harass my mother, I'll make sure your pretty little face doesn't step into that modeling agency ever again.

Don't ever message me again.

if you do, I'll call the cops and file a restraining order.

* * *

**To: Jennifer James**

**From: Cole Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: crows**

I didn't give it to her.

I think she hacked into my email and got it.

My browser is a scary shade of pink as we speak.

* * *

**To: Michael Hodgens**

**From: Cole Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: where I am**

This isn't about Jess. This is about...

Damn it. That annoying Emily Oken is banging on the door. Talk to you later.

* * *

**To: Cole Ryan**

**From: Miley Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: your early death**

If you do not open your door right this moment, I swear you'll regret it with every fiber in your being.

* * *

**To: Cole Ryan**

**From: Jake Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: your mother...**

is scaring me.

Still locked up in your room, huh? Must be because she just called me at work, screaming about you being ridiculous...

Open your door.

Or I fear for you more than me.

* * *

**To: Miley Ryan**

**From: Cole Ryan**

**CC: Jake Ryan**

**Subject: stop harassing me**

Chill out.

Besides, don't you two have something to do?

* * *

**To: Cole Ryan**

**From: Miley Ryan**

**CC: Jake Ryan**

**Subject: men-**

Caden Cole Ryan, you seriously do not want to get an attitude with me.

And yes, I do have something to do.

I'm doing it as we speak. If you're wondering what that noise is, I'm taking down your bedroom door.

Jake, when are you coming home? I need help carrying this door down the stairs. It's kind of heavy.

* * *

**To: Jake Ryan**

**From: Cole Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: your wife...**

is insane.

she's freaking _hacking away _at my door with a _crowbar_ !!

YES!

A _CROWBAR!_

Oh_ crap._

I think she's got the door unlocked...

God, can't she back off for one second?

* * *

**To: Miley Ryan**

**From: Jake Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: crowbars**

hahahaha!!!

Priceless!!

You're definitely getting a reward for that one when I get home...

* * *

**To: Jake Ryan**

**From: Miley Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: I'm in!**

God his room is_disgusting_.

And his computer keyboard looks like millions of sodas have spit on it.

And I think there is something breathing in the corner...

Oh, my gosh...I think...I think it just _growled!!!!!  
_

I can think of a few major reasons I hate emailing on my cell phone. One being a certain boy is reading over my shoulder.

Did I invite you to read my email, Cole?

Ha. CAUGHT YOU!

Anyway, I'm holding you up on that reward when you get home. (which will be when...?)

Also, what do I do with the remains from Cole's door and the bent crowbar?

* * *

**To: Jake Ryan**

**From: Cole Ryan**

**CC: Miley Ryan**

**Subject: my parents sexual activity**

Dad, can you please not email provocative messages to mom when I'm in the room?

Mom, can you please not reply in a provocative manner to his provocative messages when I can easily read them?

Thanks. I actually like not gouging my eyes out with a spork.

* * *

**To: Cole Ryan**

**From: Miley Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: nosy, fourteen year old brats**

_Don't_ read my emails over my shoulder.

It's absolutely none of your business.

* * *

**To: Miley Ryan**

**From: Cole Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: I'm sorry mommy...**

I won't do it anymore. I'm sorry. You're the best...blah, blah, blah. Whatever.

* * *

**To: Jake Ryan**

**From: Miley Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: you**

When you get home I want to rip your shirt off and run my hands all over...

You're a _liar_, Cole Ryan. I can hear you gagging. _STOP READING MY EMAILS!!!!!!!!!!_

* * *

**To: Cole Ryan**

**From: ****Michael Hodgens**

**CC:**

**Subject: my house**

Tough luck, man. Do you want to come over and have a smoke? My old man's at the store getting some liquor and mom skipped town, so the house is empty. I'll invite Gavin and Jason. And maybe some sexy girls...got any in mind?

* * *

**To: ****Michael Hodgens**

**From: Cole Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: your house**

I will in a few.

My mother is screaming at me as we speak.

She wants me to stay here and eat dinner with her and dad and the rest of my bitchy family.

I'll sneak out of my bathroom window.

Invite Melanie and Paige.

* * *

**To: Cole Ryan**

**From: ****Michael Hodgens**

**CC:**

**Subject: your mother...**

Can come ;-)

* * *

**To: ****Michael Hodgens**

**From: Cole Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: I hate you.**

you're _disgusting_.

I'm on my way.

* * *

"Cole?" I screamed loudly up the stairs, "Get out of that bathroom and come down here!!"

My throat hurt from all the screaming. I sighed and sat down at the bottom of the stairs, my head in my hands.

"I think he's sneaked out." Emily voiced what everyone was thinking. Oliver set down Moose's dog bowl, before rolling his eyes,

"He's definitely going to be killed when he gets home."

The last face to face conversation I'd had with him had been...gosh, at least two weeks ago. All we do anymore is email each other...and he disappears to God knows where half the time...it was possibly the most frustrating thing ever. I didn't have any idea who he was.

"He's probably with Connor." Emily said, sitting down on the floor beside Moose. She pet him gently.

I hated that kid. He was one of those kids you just know are up to no good. I didn't like Cole hanging around with him, either. Ever since they became friends, Cole was acting more and more like him each day.

"I think this belongs here," A voice came from the doorway. I looked up to see Jake, holding Cole by the ear and dragging him into the house. I jumped up and glared at Cole fiercely.

"Cole," Jake demanded in a hard voice, "you will go into the kitchen, sit at the table, and wait for us. If you try to make a run for it, I'll call the police."

Was this what our family was reduced to? Calling the cops on each other?

Cole ripped himself out of Jake's grip, and glared harshly at us before stomping off to the kitchen. Jake walked over and took me into his arms, knowing I hated all this. I hugged him tightly and he kissed me before letting go of me.

"We're just going to go," Oliver said as he took Emily's hand, "Good luck."

I waved, "Thanks. Sorry this happened, you'll have to come over tomorrow for dinner."

"'Bye Miley and Jake." Emily said softly, waving at us as her father dragged her out of the house. The front door shut, and I could hear Cole kicking stuff from the kitchen. I closed my eyes for a moment and thought back to when he was a sweet, adorable baby. What had we done wrong?

Jake pulled me to him again. He was wearing a white, button up shirt that looked perfect on him. He kissed me before taking my hand, ready to go face Cole.

I pushed the kitchen door open. It was a swinging door, and I wondered if a good wack in the head with the door would knock some sense into that boy. Cole was kicking the cabinets rather hard, making the kitchen fill with the loud sounds of bone upon wood.

"Stop that." I said sharply. Cole turned to us, stared me in the eyes, and kicked it again. As if daring me to do anything. Jake walked over and took him by the arm, pulling him into a kitchen chair.

I sat down lightly, ready to jump up if I had to. Cole had a habit of running away. Jake sat down in the seat beside Cole's. He looked mad and stressed out, a look I didn't like him sporting.

"You've got to stop this, Cole." Jake said, looking at his difficult son. As I looked between them, I couldn't help but notice how much they looked alike.

"Stop what? You guys are the one who keep bugging me!" Cole shouted.

"We're concerned." I said softly. He jumped up and kicked the chair,

"I don't need your damn concern! Just leave me alone and back off!"

His words stung. I felt as if I'd been shot, and I'd know what that felt like. But at the same time, I was angry. How dare he talk to me like that?! I was his mother! Jackson would have NEVER talked to our mother like that!

"Well you're going to get it anyway! You're our son, whether you like it or not! So sit back down right now and freaking tell us what is wrong!"

Cole shoved the chair over, "No, go to hell. I don't have to tell you any thing. It's my life and I'll do whatever I feel like, and you can't stop me!"

Jake stood up, catching Cole's arm before he stormed away, "You will not talk to her that way. She is your mother, and you will respect her! I'm sick of your attitude, Cole. Apologize to her right this moment."

Jake actually looked scary. I was always surprised every time I saw him get strict with Cole, and I always

wondered how Cole wasn't intimidated.

Cole looked at me. I looked at him, seeing my eyes and nose in his features. His blond hair was shorter than it had been last year, but still just as light. As I looked at him, I wondered how he could treat me like this.

"Just leave me alone." Cole yelled at us, before tearing his arm away and running out of the kitchen.

"Someone call Nanny 911." Jake muttered, sitting down beside me.

* * *

**A/n: Reviews would actually aid the transition from first to second chapter :) **


	2. Almost

* * *

**"Suppressed grief suffocates, it rages within the breast, and is forced to multiply it's strength." -- Ovid**

* * *

"I'm really sorry, Mrs. and Mr. Ryan."

I folded my hands together tightly. So tight that my nails dug into my skin. Jake merely nodded once. We were sitting in a doctor's office. I was sitting on the examination table, and Jake in the seat beside it. Nothing was unusual about setting, or what we'd been told.

"You weren't that far along, so your body will be able to rid itself of the dead fetus. If you need anymore information on that, please feel free to ask. I'm also thinking that maybe...maybe it's time to give up."

I squeezed my hands together even tighter, ignoring the sharp, searing pain. I nodded and said softly,

"I'm thinking that maybe that's a good idea,"

Jake looked at me this time, his eyes showing confusion. We'd sworn we'd never give up, we swore it to each other. Too bad I made the promise before I realized exactly what I was promising. He didn't understand how it felt to be the one responsible. It was _my _fault, just like all the others had been.

"Right, well, if you have any concerns you can always call the clinic and someone will be happy to answer your questions. I wish you both the best."

With that, she was gathering up her clipboard and exiting the examination room. Pure, painful silence drained in.

"Miley, I—"

I stood up. I began changing out of the blue, paper shorts and shirt they'd made me wear. I jerked the knot undone.

"No, I don't want to talk about it." I said sharply. He handed me my shirt as I pulled the paper shirt off.

"You can't just not talk about it!" He exclaimed. I pulled my shirt over my head with more force than intended, causing the neckline to dig into my skin.

"I can do whatever I please," I snapped, pulling the shorts off so fast that I was surprised I didn't topple over.

He ran a weary hand over his face, "God, you sounded so much like Cole when you said that. And I don't understand why you're acting like this!"

I looked around for my jeans. He held them out to me. I snatched them out of his hands.

"Than maybe you don't know me," I hissed. I pulled my jeans on, ignoring the little voice in my mind that taunted me. I'd never have to wear maternity clothes ever again at this rate. After pulling my shoes on and tying them, I grabbed my purse and stormed out of the doctor's office.

Jake was at my heels, and signed out at the front while I ran out to the car.

I unlocked the doors, and threw open the passenger door. I hurdled my purse at the floor, and sat down in the seat. I reached over and slammed the door shut. The loud sound echoed around me. I ignored my seatbelt, and looked out of the window. The sky was steel gray. That was natural for Tennessee winters, but the sun was mostly out in California, no matter the season. The trees were unaffected by the weather, and stood just as proud as they did in the summer.

I heard Jake climbing in the driver's seat. He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Why won't you talk to me?" He asked softly. I simply reached over and turned the radio on. It was playing on of my songs, a rather upbeat one, and I turned it quickly. The next was playing a happy, Christmas song. I switched it to CD, and stuck in a depressing mix CD.

Jake just groaned in annoyance, but stayed silent. _My heart hurt_. It hurt terribly, like sandpaper was rubbing it down.

This was my seventh miscarriage. You'd think I'd get used to the painful, disappointment. But I never did. It felt just as fresh each time it happened. I'd find out I was pregnant, and I'd be filled with this exuberance. I'd think that maybe, just maybe, this would work! That this would be the time.

I'd felt that way six years ago, when I was in labor with a little girl. It had been a hard pregnancy, with me being on bed rest the whole time. But I was still completely happy, and so was everyone else. Because we all thought I'd beaten the walls down, and that I was going to have a new baby!

At three twenty one P.M., after seven hours of labor, I had a stillbirth. When I think back on that moment, I think of the time. 3:21. 3,2,1..._KABOOM_. It's over.

It happens one in two hundred pregnancies. And of course I was that one. I can't explain to you how it felt. How it felt to work so hard for nine whole months thinking that I'd done it this time...and then to give birth to a dead baby. To go through the pain of giving birth...then realizing I'd never hold, or rock that baby. I couldn't possibly tell you how it felt to look at that still baby..I still remember everything about that day. I remember the doctor's face as he said, "_I'm so terribly sorry, but your baby is a stillborn." _

It was a little girl. Jake and I were going to name her Joy. Joy Grace Ryan.

And as I was absorbing the shock, they were handing me the certificate of death. We had to fill it out...we had to decide what to do with the body. The body of my baby that was completely perfect in every way...except she was dead. I had to see her little, miniature hands and know she's never touch anything with those hands. I had to look upon her and know I'd never see her do anything...except get buried.

Two years later, I was pregnant again. It wasn't planned; it just happened. But I was happy. I felt that God was giving me another chance. Another chance to prove to me the world wasn't a horrible, cruel place. A chance for me understand that God didn't hate me.

I didn't spend the whole time in the bed. I spent my pregnancy celebrating, living life happy. And it paid off. At eleven fifty eight A.M., after only three hours of labor, I have birth to a healthy little girl. I was completely sure that this time, things were going to be perfect.

She was so small, and I held her to me for three hours. Her little heart beat so rapidly (like little babies hearts do), and it assured me. Her name was Isabella Chloe Ryan, a name we chose because we felt it was extremely unique. I was going to call her Bella. She had a head full of beautiful, caramel colored hair. Her eyes were big and green, and she reminded me of Jake. We took so many pictures of her. She was beautiful, a miracle. I still have the pictures. They used to be framed, but now they are in a dusty box underneath the floor in the attic.

She lived three days. Three joy filled days. We were to take her home the morning we were told she died. I didn't want to hear how, I wouldn't listen. That was two little babies. Two little daughters that had died because of _me_. I was a murderer.

Jake locked himself up in the bathroom for a while when we got home. I knew he was crying, he'd done the same thing when we'd came home without Joy. But I never cried once, not after Joy or Bella. I was too sad to cry. Is that stupid? Is that pitiful? Is it cruel? I don't know. All I knew at the time, was that I wished it had been me that died instead. After all, it's harder to watch some die than to die yourself.

I wanted to keep the pictures out, but it was too painful for Jake. At the time Joy was born, Cole was eight. He wasn't sure how to act. We never allowed him to see her. But when he spent three days with his new little sister, a cute little baby named Isabella, and then found out she was dead, he got extremely upset if he saw a picture. He wouldn't look at any of us for a week. And he cried in such a way I'd never seen him cry before. He wanted to know why God took a little baby from us. I didn't know how to answer that. He was ten then, and understood what had happened immensely. Sometimes I think he blames me for it. But I don't care, because I blame myself too.

I put the pictures into a old, black photo album. I put the album into a box, and put the box underneath a loose floorboard. I still looked at them. I couldn't help it. No one talked about her, and sometimes I needed to make sure she really was real.

Sometime after Isabella died, I got angry. It wasn't fair. I was dead set that I was going to have another little baby. And I told Jake that there was nothing I wanted more in this life than another child. And we promised to never give up, that we knew someday we would have a baby.

Between then and now, I'd gotten pregnant seven times. None went past the first trimester. We decided after the first, that we wouldn't tell anyone until it was to the second.

No one knew about any of them. Although sometimes I think Cole knows what we go to the doctor about so much. Not that he even cares.

I wasn't _exactly _sure why Cole was as rebellious as he was. He was the sweetest child, the icon of love. He was one of those kids that did things for other people just because he thought "Their smile was pretty,". I remember his first day of kindergarten like it was yesterday...he was wearing a pair of tan slacks, and a nice, blue button down shirt that made his eyes look amazing. He was up before me that morning, bouncing up on down...ready to go and start his life as a student. I made him breakfast (cinnamon rolls because for the longest time that's all he'd eat in the mornings), and he hoisted his little red backpack on his back. He charged out to my car, excitement bubbling out of him in the form of ongoing rants.

I remember...I remember watching him walk away and into the classroom and thinking it wasn't so hard. I'd seen all the sappy shows where the parents cry and cry after sending them in, but I was thinking I was okay...

And then, in the middle of all the students playing with toys, he turned around and smiled at me. He said, "Bye, Mommy. I love you. Have a nice day," which were the exact words I'd said to him before he walked in the classroom (substituting mommy for Cole of course). And I realized he did looked grown up.

I sat outside on the front steps for two hours. I couldn't force myself to leave, or go back in. I finally managed to get into my car and drive back home.

The first thing he said when he got home that day was that everyone loved him at school. He gave me a picture, it was him and Moose in the backyard, and asked that I put it on the refrigerator. I can still see the detail he placed upon it...the way the grass was all blowing in different directions, and the sun had no smiley face like all my kindergarten pictures had. It was wonderful, and from that point on I knew Cole was an artist.

Then I wanted another baby. I was sad, Cole was growing up. And slowly, that began to consume my life. I only ate foods that would keep me in the best, ideal shape. I exercised vigorously for at least thirty minutes each day. I went to the doctor so much...

And somewhere along the line, as my obsession cracked chunks into my life, Cole fell into the cracks. I'm deeply ashamed even thinking about it...because I love him. But it was like I was a smoker, and babies were the nicotine. I remember, shamefully, Cole having a program. They were showing art work and giving awards. And...and I didn't go because I had to go the doctor. I told him to show me the artwork and awards when I got home. He never actually did show me them. Of all the things I regret, that would be at the top. But I could help but blame my age. I was seventeen when I had him. From the time he was conceived on up...I'd always had some tragedy going on in my life that kept me occupied.

And the obsession ate me up until I had Joy. Then I realized how poor Cole had been slipping...but by then it was too late. He'd officially taken on the tortured soul of an artist.

He was angry. I was angry. Jake was angry. But the difference was, Cole was angry at us. And Jake and I were angry at the world. I guess that's how Jake and I managed to stay together after all these tragedies. We both handled them in the same way, getting furious. So I guess that helped keep us together until we could think rationally to move on.

I wish I could get into Cole's head. To figure out how to fix what I didn't mean to do. To try and make Luke's reign of misery stop. Because even when he was dead, he caused me pain. It was his fault my body was betraying me, which made me neglect Cole, which caused all this.

Jake pulled the car into the driveway. Cole was standing with the Connor boy out front, smoking a cigarette.

Ahh, his smoking addiction. Jake and I had found out two months ago. We got into a horrible, horrible fight with him about it. In the end, Cole left for two days. We were so scared...Jake called the police and everyone...while I couldn't shake the feeling something horrible had happened.

And we were too scared to do anything about it now. Maybe we were cowards. But I couldn't let something happen to him. I couldn't.

Jake honked the horn loudly, causing Connor to jump and drop his cigarette. Ha, serves him right. Suddenly, a car pulled in behind us. I turned around.

It was Lana. Great, company.

I reached for the door handle, but Jake placed his hand on my leg, stopping me.

"We need to tell him."

At first I was confused. Tell him about the miscarriage?! Why would we do that?! But I realized what he meant after a moment.

"He's probably heard about it in school. He'll come to us eventually."

Jake shook his head, "Do you want him to hear one of his friends stupid version, or hear to truth from his mother?"

Cole was still blissfully unaware about exactly what had gone on fourteen years ago. When he was little, he heard someone say something about it, and I gave him the little boy version as I tucked him into bed...

_**-F-**_

_I smiled at Cole before flipping the light off. The room was bathed in the powder blue of the moonlight. He loved to sleep with his window open, so the sound and smell of the sea filled his room. The light puddled against his right cheek. _

"_Goodnight," I whispered one more time. I was about to leave the room when he said,_

"_Mommy? Can I ask you something?" I stopped, and turned around. _

"_Sure, Cole. Anything." _

_He sat up slightly and looked at me, "I heard Marty's mom saying that the reason you and daddy are together is because some guy stalked you. What does that mean?" _

_I stopped breathing for a moment it seemed. I knew he was going to hear of it one day, but I dreaded telling him. I stepped back into his room, and sat down at the foot of his bed._

"_Stalked means when someone follows you around." _

_He seemed to be thinking about that, "So some guy followed you around a lot? Is stalking bad? Because Jessica follows me around when we have recess."_

_I laughed lightly and said, "Well, yes some could call that stalking. But what happened to me was slightly different." _

_He looked confused, "So what happened?" _

_I stared out at the waves. They were crashing cruelly against the shore, with no mercy. _

_I looked at him. _

"_Well, before you were in mommy's tummy, there was this bad guy who stalked me. He wanted to hurt me in some ways you wouldn't understand." _

_He nodded once, firmly. He tapped his chin with his finger, thinking hard about something._

"_Like the bad guys in daddy's movies?" _

_I laughed out loud at that one. I ruffled his hair before softly patting his cheek, "Yea, like the bad guys in daddy's movies. Except this guy, he hurt mommy and daddy, Uncle Jackson, Grandpa, Oliver, Lilly...and even you and Em. He was a really mean man." _

_Cole laid back down, pulling the covers back over his shoulders, "I don't like him." He decided. _

_I stood up, "Me either, Cole. But you don't need to worry about anything but that little Jessica girl because he is dead." _

_Cole yawned, "Did daddy kill him?" He asked, his eyes drifting shut. _

_I smiled once more before walking to the doorway, "In a way, I guess he did. I love you, Cole." _

_But he was already asleep. _

_**-End F.-**_

Maybe now was the time to give him the grown up version.

"I don't know," I muttered to Jake before flinging the door open and climbing out of the car.

"MILEY! JAKE!"

Jake and I turned around to see Lana waving at us. She was twenty-four and possibly the most beautiful person I'd ever seen before. She got stopped frequently on the streets by photographers asking if they could take her picture. Not to mention her looks, she was the nicest person you could ever meet. She just understood people. She had always understood people, which is why she was such as amazing kid.

But right then, I didn't want to talk to her. Or anyone for that matter. I wanted to go up to the attic, and throw things.

If I was seventeen again, I would have done just that. But I couldn't now, because I had to act responsible.

Jake already had a smile pasted to his face. Connor was walking over to hit on Lana. Cole was kicking the cigarette underneath a bush. Lana was smiling at Connor's awkward attempts at flirting. Moose was sleeping in the grass.

And I wanted to _scream_.


	3. Never

**A/n: **thanks for the reviews, they rocked. here's the next chapter...so yea, enjoy!

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**"Marriage is like life - it is a field of battle, not a bed of roses." -- Robert Louis Stevenson  
**

* * *

The dining room was orange. Not Auburn Tigers orange, but yellow orange. It was bright, flamboyant and energetic. It used to be a beige color, but when I was pregnant with Isabella, we painted it a happier color. In fact, we painted most dark rooms bright colors. When we got back from the hospital, without Isabella, I took all the paint from the garage and went up to the attic. I screamed and screamed while I dumped bucket after bucket onto the rough, wooden walls. It helped relieve the pressure building up inside me. I liked it.

The attic is a mixture of bright orange, yellow, green, blue, and red. Jake never saw it, because he never goes up there. Never.

"Hey, runt, where are you going?" Lana said as Cole grabbed his plate from the table and started up the stairs. He stopped on the second step and turned to look at his aunt, confusion etched on his face.

"Up to my room, duh." He snapped. She raised her eyebrows.

"Why don't you eat down here with your dear auntie Lana?" She joked, a smile teasing her pretty face. He scowled,

"Why don't you shove it up your—

"Cole," I said sharply, without looking up from my wine glass. I didn't like alcohol much at all. I only drank it when there wasn't anymore apple juice in the house. Jake used to tease me for my addiction to apple juice. We'd get into huge, dramatic play fights over it that almost always ended with him mixing apple juice with wine, and sitting in our den with me on his lap, sipping the drink with me. He doesn't tease me anymore.

There was no reply. I looked up, and he was already halfway up the stairs. Lana whistled underneath her breath, and I was pretty sure I heard Jake curse underneath his breath. I didn't move.

"So, what did you guys do today?" Lana asked, a happy smile on her face. Lana was married to an author. His name was Joseph Carry, and he was on a book signing tour right now. He was an okay guy, a little shy and dreamy though. He was always gazing out windows with a spaced on look on his face, and diving into Lana's bag for a notebook and pen to frantically write something down. Lana was outgoing, loud, understanding, beautiful, and hilarious. Joe was quiet, shy, awkward, and not the best looking guy around. While Lana had hair that was a golden blond, so golden it could rival the sun, and wide crystal clear blue eyes...Joe had dark hair, a large crooked nose, and brown eyes. His smile was kind, though, and his eyes were a nice color. So I could see why Lana was attracted to him in the first place. He was also Jewish, and Lana placed the Jewish star on top of a Christmas tree the first Christmas they were married. He actually got a good kick out of it, and they celebrated both. Christmas with Alana and Jim, Hanukkah with Joe's parents.

It was all very strange, but they worked, which was maybe the strangest thing of all. They adored each other with such love that I almost felt jealous. Joe stayed by Lana's side at all times. They were stuck together like magnets, and Lana hated it when he left. Even though he'd write at least two books just for her to read while he was away. Which made me think he was maybe the sweetest person underneath it all. After all, what husband would write two whole novels JUST for his wife when he left for two months?! He was a romance mystery novelist. I'd read one of his books before, but I was overwhelmed with tears and fear at the climax of the story, and had to wait a while before continuing it. He was a wonderful author. I own all his books, and one day I will read them all.

"Um, nothing really." I muttered. Jake coughed. Lana was looking between us, a strange look on her face.

"Riight. Well, I was going to wait to tell you until Joe gets back, but I can't! So I'll tell you now, I'm going to have a baby!"

Suddenly, we were all sprayed with wine. Jake was sitting there, shock on his face, wine dripping from his chin after he spit it across the table. He dropped his wine glass.

"WHAT!?" He cried. Lana looked scared, she moved back from her older brother. It took me a few seconds to force a smile onto my face,

"Lana! That's...wonderful!" She was still looking at Jake, confused.

"A baby?" He croaked.

"Yes. You know, one of the things that grew up into the monster living upstairs?" Lana said.

"But...but...you're too young!" He sputtered.

She stood up, placing a hand on her hip, "Excuse me? I'm twenty-four and married, while you and Miley were seventeen and not married."

"We...had a stable relationship!" He yelled. I could see Lana's temper roaring in anger,

"What?! I hardly call having a murderer chase after you stable! And Joe and I are completely stable!"

"How long?" He asked.

"Just two months along," She said.

"Oh so he gets you pregnant and leaves, huh?"

"He's coming back next week!"

"He says."

Lana screamed and said, "I'm not your baby sister anymore, Jake! You can't make these ridiculous excuses as to why I shouldn't have a baby. And I won't stand by and let you degrade my husband. I'm leaving!" She turned to me and smiled, "Thank you for the lovely meal, Miley. I'll call you later."

I nodded, and downed the rest of the wine in one sip.

She glared at Jake before rushing out of the orange dining room and driving off.

"What the _hell_ was that, Jake?!" I yelled, as I stood up from my seat. He was standing there, anger on his face, staring where Lana had just been. He rounded on me,

"What did it look like? My sister is ruining her life!"

"UGH!" I screamed, before grabbing my plate and glass, "I can not believe you just did that! You saw how excited she was! How could you ruin that for her? She's an adult, she knows the consequences and I'm sure she thought of it before trying to get pregnant. She doesn't need you screaming at her. And how could you accuse Joe of leaving her?! That was low, extremely low."

I grabbed his plate and glass, bringing them into the bright, blue kitchen. He followed me.

"Don't you start at me again! I'm sick of you screaming at me."

I threw the dishes in the sink with more force than intended. One wine glass broke.

"Well I happen to be sick of a lot of things." I snapped, flinging the sink on to wash some of the pasta off the plates and into the sink.

"What, me? Are you implying you're sick of me? Because I can leave! You want me to leave?! I can go pack my stuff, and drive off and never come back if you want me to!"

I yanked the drawer open, grabbing a dish towel. I furiously wiped at the plate. I decided I was finished with that, and threw the dish towel in the sink.

"Do whatever the hell you want to do."

I slammed the drawer shut and stalked out of the kitchen.

"Miley! Come on, don't be like that!" Jake screamed after me.

"Shove it, Jake!" I yelled back. I snatched the present someone had dropped off at the house for me, and the laundry basket, before heading up the spiral stairs.

On the first landing, I heard voices from Cole's room. I stopped. I know I shouldn't have, but I was curious.

"—can't do that, Mike." Cole said to whomever was in the room.

"Why not, Ryan? I don't understand." "Mike" was obviously on speaker phone from the way his voice came out so fuzzy.

"Because. I just won't ask her. Stop bugging me. I'll walk with Jennifer to the movies tomorrow if I have to."

"Just ask your damn mother! Just because you act like a dick to them doesn't mean your mom doesn't love you. Besides, Jenny loves your mom. She'd be so thankful if you got your mom to drive you."

Wait, this was about me? Cole was afraid to ask me something?

"She'll say no." Cole said.

I should say no. Because he treats me horribly. But maybe that's my fault.

I tore the card off the present. It was from Jackson, who was up in Seattle for the holiday with his current girlfriend. It was peppermint bark (he'd told me already), which happened to be one of Cole's favorite things.

I knocked softly on the door. The talking stopped immediately.

"What?" Cole yelled.

"Can I come in?" I asked softly. I heard him telling Mike goodbye, before hanging up the phone. A few moments later, he opened the door.

I smiled at him, something he didn't return. He walked back over to his back and flopped back down on his back. Moose was lying on the bed also. Cole adored Moose. It was probably the only person in the house he loved. One Who Likes Sugar Cookies had to be put down last year after getting a hip disease. She hadn't been able to walk anymore. It was quite dramatic. But Moose was still around. Ancient, but healthy otherwise.

Moose wagged his tail when he saw me. I cautiously walked into Cole's room, and sat on the edge of his bed. I pet Moose and looked at Cole. He was staring at the ceiling, ignoring my presence.

"Someone dropped this off for you," I held out the present. He sat up and took it from my hands. He didn't snatch it, I noted to myself. He looked at it curiously before setting it down beside me.

"I'm bringing Emily to the movies tomorrow," I started gently, "you think you might want to ride with us?"

Of course I wasn't really. But I was giving him the opportunity to ask me to bring him.

He looked up at me. His golden hair caught the light, and I wanted to cry.

"Well..." He hesitated, "do you think that maybe...you could bring me and my friend too?"

I smiled. Bingo.

"Sure," I replied, "what time?"

"I'll email it to you," He said. Which was code for, get out. I stood up and walked out of his room, knowing I'd be a while before he'd let me back in.

I climbed back down the stairs. Jake wasn't in the living room or kitchen, so I walked into our bedroom.

He wasn't in there. The silence was so loud. I walked up the spiral staircase that was located in the corner of the room. I climbed them silently before emerging into our sitting room. The walls were golden, and a white love seat was sitting in front of a fireplace. This was my favorite place in the house. It was the only place that was just mine and Jake's. No one else came up here.

He was sitting on the couch, staring at the fire he'd started in the fireplace. I calculated what exactly to say. But I didn't have to think long, because he broke the silence,

"We're giving up?"

I looked at him. His face was composed, and he was staring straight into the flames. Maybe seeing everything go up into them.

"_I_ am," I said. He turned suddenly, to look at me. His eyes met mine. And I felt as though, with that statement, we had nothing anymore. Was that the cold truth? That all we had was a common goal, and anger?

"Then I am also." He whispered. I wondered if that had a double meaning behind it.

"I'm sick of being angry, Jake," I whispered, "And I'm sick of the disappointment. And pain. God, Jake, I'm _sick _of the pain."

He nodded, turning back to the fire. His eyes had a glazed quality to them, and I wondered if he was remembering happier times.

"That's it then," He muttered, "it's over. _He's _won."

He didn't need to establish further who the '_he_' was. My eyes flashed with anger and I spat,

"No. He's not won. He's in the _ground _Jake. He's _dead_. We just weren't supposed to have anymore children. It just wasn't supposed to happen in the first place."

His head turned to meet mine, anger in his features, "Do you hear yourself? Do you actually believe that?"

I threw my hands out in surrender, "What the hell do you expect me to believe, Jake? Please, tell me. Do you want me to keep on believing that by subjecting myself to pain every freaking time this has happened that we are beating something? That we are doing some for the greater good? Because we're not. This is stupid! We keep going through this...this...shit, thinking it's helping something! But it's not! Cole won't even talk to us, Jake! We've...we've neglected him!"

He rose from the couch, "Shit? You think Joy and Bella were _shit_? Because they weren't! I can't believe you'd even say that."

I felt as though I'd been slapped across the face. It's the first time he mentioned his deceased daughters, and it's to hurt me.

"Don't you _dare _say that! Don't you _even_," I shrieked shrilly, "you don't know what it's like! You have no idea what it's like! To have two babies, and then them die because of you! Because of something _you _did wrong! Nothing is your fault, Jake! It's mine! Okay, it's my fault! And I can't do it anymore! I'll die, I swear to God I will! I _loved_those babies! I loved them! You didn't carry them around for nine months! You didn't feel them kick, or anything! So don't even try to say I didn't love them! Because I did! I did!"

I felt hysterical. My face was flushed from screaming, and my ears ringing. Blood was rushing to my head, and my face seemed to be throbbing.

"I wasn't trying to say that! You were the one that said it was—

"Not them Jake! Not the babies! I'm saying all this, what we are putting ourselves through, is shit! Stupid, idiotic ovulation calenders and...and...doctor visits! I hate the doctors! I hate going! And pregnancy tests! I'm sick of seeing the stupid blue wand! I'm tired of it! And I'm through getting my blood taken! I'm _done!"_

"_Fine!_Be done with it, then. Give up." He spat.

I stared at him, realizing for the first time in my life that he didn't understand me at all.

"You don't understand, do you?" The words were so soft compared to everything else. He looked at me, startled by the change in volume.

"No, I don't. You want this. You told me, that this is what you really want. But you're giving up. You're giving in."

"Giving in to _what_, Jake? What am I giving in to?" I asked, a grimace permanently etched in my face, "Luke isn't here anymore, and I wish we could stop bringing him into this."

"I'm not bringing him into this. You're giving in to fear, and pain." He sat back down, and looked back into the dying flames, "I never thought you were that kind of person."

I felt hate, and anger, rise in me. I screamed and screamed as I hurdled a wine bottle that was sitting on the table at the wall.

"I never thought you were this kind of person!" I screamed, "I never, ever thought you'd hurt me like this! Never! I can't believe what a...monster you've become! If you can't see that I'm not giving up, that it's been over for years, than you're _blind. _It's not going to happen! Never! And I'm not going to hurt myself anymore."

He tossed a log angrily into the flames, sending sparks flying everywhere.

"Fine. Storm out, and leave me here like you want to. Why are you still standing there?" He looked up at me.

I turned my back on him.

"Search me. I'm going to bed," I snapped. He poked the fire,

"Whatever. Bye." The words were harsh, and left me feeling as though he'd thrown a hand full of flames at me.

I walked down the stairs and crawled into the bed. After my anger simmered down, I waited up for him. I waited for five hours. When I saw the sun coming up, I knew he wasn't coming. So I allowed myself to slip into unconsciousness, the only place I felt safe.


	4. Knew

**"The motto should not be: ****Forgive one another; rather, Understand one another."-- Emma Goldman**

* * *

"He really said that?" Lilly asked in shock.

We were standing in the kitchen. All the windows—there were nine of them total—were open and curtain-less, sending the suns rays into the kitchen and lighting up the walls that were as blue as the ocean. I was cracking eggs (we were making a cake), and Lilly was sitting on the counter eating up the cake icing. Her legs swung back and forth and she reminded me of a ten year old.

I nodded numbly, and walked over to the trash can to deposit the egg shells. Lilly made a sound of outrage before demanding,

"Then what happened?!"

I walked back over to my previous position and sighed,

"I went to bed."

She was measuring up my expression, "He came with you, right?"

I shook my head, adding milk to the bowl that the eggs and cake mix were in. Jackson's birthday was today, and he was coming over later. He was at Dad's right now. He brought his new girlfriend, Mallory or something common like that, who had some sort of history with Lilly's fiancée. I think they were lovers, or married, or something.

I'd volunteered to make Jackson's favorite cake—double chocolate fudge—earlier in the month. I made it pretty good, but not as well as my mother used to make it.

"How could he? What was he...why would he...didn't he...ugh! Men are stupid!" She declared, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

I moved the mixture to the blender, and started it up. Once that was going, I turned to Lilly,

"I feel like he doesn't love me anymore."

Her demeanor changed drastically. She rolled her eyes,

"That's bull. He loves you and you know it. If he didn't, he'd leave you."

I pulled myself up on the counter beside her, "I don't know. He's...complicated."

"So? I understand complicated. I'm going to marry a criminal after all."

I snorted, "For God's sake Lilly, Isaak isn't a criminal."

She frowned, "Yes he is."

"He accidentally walked out with a magazine he didn't pay for, big deal! He went right back in and apologized and paid for it. He didn't even get arrested. You just want him to feel dangerous."

She stamped her foot, "He _is_dangerous!"

"He works at a preschool." I chuckled.

"He teaches the little children about serious issues!" Lilly cried.

"Like the importance of eating your daily carrot?" I countered.

"No! _Like...like...important stuff_!"

"Right. Well, personally, I think he's a big softie."

Lilly and Isaak had been dating for twelve years. Yes, dating. He only just proposed a few months prior to today. I always wondered how Lilly managed to be so patient, but she informed me that she wasn't anxious to be married. She liked how her life was. They only decided to tie the knot when they passed their thirties.

Isaak was, in one word, peaceful. He taught preschool, ran protests against animal abuse, and adopted two children. Twins, to be exact. He'd been their legal guardian for eight years, ever since they were one. He and Lilly had gone through the process together the first four years they were together. In the end they adopted the twins, Eve and Zoë. They were both nine currently, and Lilly absolutely adored them. I wondered why she never wanted to be married to Isaak, but they basically lived a married life. They both lived in his small house and parented two children. Once Lilly was married to Isaak, she was going to adopt Eve and Zoë also. I think maybe that's one of the main reasons they wanted to tie the knot. They had a sense of stability with each other, but I guess Lilly wanted a better sense with the girls.

Isaak and Lilly were in love. But...I couldn't stop a nagging voice in the back of my mind that kept saying Lilly didn't fit right with him. The voice stayed carefully ducked taped in front of Lilly, but I'd already expressed my worry to Jake.

"So?" She sighed, "he's the best with the girls. They love their daddy. Personally, I think he's their favorite. But that's okay because when I was young my dad was my favorite also. Once they mature and reach puberty, mom will be their favorite."

I smiled slightly and pulled the bowl from the mixer. I pored the creamy mixture into a cake pan, and spread it evenly with a spoon. Lilly stuck her finger in the batter, and I glared reproachfully at her. She shrugged,

"What? J-Jackson will never notice."

I must have imagined her stuttering over his name.

I shrugged, and Lilly jumped suddenly,

"You never finished telling me what happened!"

I frowned. Back to that again, are we?

"Nothing else happened. I woke up this morning alone. He's out on the balcony that's on the roof now I thi—...where are you going?!"

She was walking out of the kitchen in a direction scarily close to the...

"NO! Lilly _don't_ interfere!" I cried after her. But she was already gone. I groaned and tossed the spoon at the wall. It splattered against the clean blue hue.

"Great," I murmured to myself, grabbing a dish cloth, "as if things weren't bad enough already!" I started wiping the batter off the wall, "now Lilly's going to go and screw up everything even more—

"Talking to yourself, Mom?"

I jumped in fright and dropped the spoon I'd just retrieved from the floor. Cole was standing in the doorway, a smile on his face, looking in high spirits. I grinned at him,

"Yep. It's completely normal, though, that's what my doctor in the white, padded room said."

He laughed. Which, was extremely not normal for him. I took advantage of his kindness,

"Would you like something? I can make you some cookies? Cocoa?" I asked.

Suddenly, as if it wasn't ever there, his smile faded, "No. That's okay. I'll see you later."

He ran out of the room.

"Wow." I muttered to myself. Oh, how strange he was. I went into the living room while the cake was baking and curled up in Jake's chair with a book. Even though I was still infuriated with him, I wished he was beside me.

I started re-reading _A Wrinkle In Time _by Madeleine L'engle, and was just to the part when Mrs. Whatsit arrives when Lilly walked down the steps.

She wordlessly sat down on the couch and picked up a magazine.

I stared at her.

I waited for her to do something, but she stayed remarkably still except for glancing at the stairs every now and then.

"Well?" I persisted. She looked up, and right then, he was somehow beside me. Lilly stared at him and jerked her head up. I cocked mine to the right in confusion. It wasn't some kind of greeting as men do to each other, more a signal. But for what?

He gently took the book out of my hands. His eyes were smoldering and brighter than usual. And as green met blue, I forgot exactly why I was angry with him.

"Can I talk to you?" He asked. Ha, as if there were a possibility I'd say no.

"Sure," I muttered, standing up from the chair quickly. Lilly was still reading the magazine still, but grinning like a Cheshire cat the whole time.

I followed Jake out of the room. He led me up the stairs, and stopped in a familiar end of a hallway.

"After you," He smiled softly, and lightly set his hand on my back, pushing me gently forward.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the dark, stuffy hallway. I walked slowly up the stairs, wondering what was going on.

When I reached the attic, I blinked in surprise.

All the boxes that were hid away, were open. All the contents were spilling out of them. I faltered, emotions choking me. I moved away from a open box that showed really old pictures—my mom in her childhood—and sat down slowly on the floor.

Was he angry with me? Was he angry that I kept all these pictures...that I kept wallowing in the past? Was he still upset from last night? Did he hate me?

Beside all those thoughts and the confusion it brought, I was embarrassed. Blood was coloring my cheeks, and I brought my knees to my chest, looking around at the disarray.

Pictures seemed to jump out at me all around the room. There were more than I ever remembered having. Pictures of Jake, of me, of Cole...of babies that never made it home...

I shut my eyes. I didn't want him to see these pictures. I felt like a sneak, like I had hid something that I wasn't supposed to have and he'd found it.

"There's a lot, isn't there?"

Jake's voice startled me. I had forgotten for a moment he was here with me. I had jumped up in the temporary fear, and was now trying to still my rapidly beating heart.

"Yea," my voice was hoarse, "I don't remember taking so many."

His eyes colored with confusion for a moment. Then he shook his head,

"No. I meant there's a lot that we don't know about each other, isn't there?"

I looked down at the box that had been pulled from it's home (underneath the floorboards).

"There didn't used to be."

The words came out so softly that I could barely hear them. But I knew he did.

"We knew each other a lot better then." His words were heavy; they carried such murky assumptions and pain that I felt woozy.

"Maybe not," My mouth spoke of it's own accord, "maybe we just know so much about each other that there is no room for anymore. Maybe...maybe..."

I left it hanging. I couldn't finish it. I couldn't say it. I wouldn't. He understood, though.

Silence hung over us like a humid cloud.

"Miley," his voice was so drastically different than before. It was louder, more demanding. I looked up warily at him, wondering if there would be another argument.

"Do you still love me?" His eyes bore seriously into mine.

I stared back. Why would he ask me that? Of course I did!

"Of course I love you," The words came out sharper than I wanted them to. He was crossing the room, dodging numerous boxes. He stood directly in front of me. His face was everything that was familiar to me, a haven of familiarity. He stared more deeply at me, as if trying to see what I was thinking. Or maybe show me what he was thinking.

"Are you sure about that?"

I didn't even blink before answering, "Yes, of course."

"Yes you do or yes you are sure that you might be sure you are?" He asked.

What?

"I love you," I whispered to him.

He reached down and gently grabbed my hand. I looked into his eyes, that had suddenly begun to look shaded with agony.

"Because if you...if you loved someone...someone else more...I'd be okay. I'd let you go."

I had a knee jerk reaction:

"What the hell?!" I screamed.

I was quite the insightful, walking thesaurus today wasn't I?

He sighed, closing his eyes. I waited.

"Miley. If you fell out of love with me. And someone else was making you happier...then..." He trailed off, letting his shoulder pathetically shrug.

I shook my head in confusion.

"There is no one else. _No one._ You're all there has ever been and will ever be." I stated.

"So you are saying that you still love me?"

My brow furrowed further in confusion and I grew agitated at him. I poked a finger at his chest and shouted (more passionately then actually intending),

"I love you! You know I love you! I've always loved you! I will always love you! Now stop confusing me with questions that you already know the answer to!"

A grin spread across his face. Then, suddenly, he was pulling me to him. His arms held me as close as I could be, and his face rested in my hair.

"Of course I do. Of course. That means that, of course, you know I love you more?"

Confusion was leaking into me at a faster rate. He had forgiven the fight then?

But his question had thrown me off, and I realized that maybe he hadn't known before if I had loved him or not. Just like I didn't really know now.

"Yes?" It sounded more like a question than an answer. He pulled back slightly and leaned down, kissing me softly.

"I love you. No matter what my stupid, testosterone-filled prideful anger makes me scream at you," His words were full of passion, and he was staring at me in a way he had never before, "you're all that anyone could ever ask for and it was selfish of me to ask you what I did last night...I'm sorry. I should have _never _said those things. Never. I woke up with regret this morning, then Lilly came prancing in here telling me something about competition...and now all I know is that you are the most amazing person ever and that I love you and I'm ranting and can't you just shut me up?"

He fell silent with a very boyish grin on his face.

I blinked, the whole while seriously considering admitting him to the local hospital for bipolar disorder testing.

"Uhh...what?"

I always have such genius replies. Hint the huge sarcasm there. His smile failed a little, as if he forgot for a second where he was (I added memory lapse to bipolar disorder. Wow, he was going to have some sort of highly deadly disease by the end of the conversation at this rate), and watched my face intently.

He was about to take a deep breath and repeat himself, but he let the breath loose and simply smiled at me before saying,

"I love you. I'm sorry about the hurtful things I said last night, it was wrong. Do you forgive me?"

That was easier to comprehend, I thought cheerfully.

Forgive him? Now I would because under this gaze from My Jake I couldn't even remember what it was he said. But later...later when we had another fight...

"Of course, Jake. Of course I forgive you." I replied softly. He hugged me again, and relief was flooding from him.

The whole conversation in general was very mind boggling for me. He never acted like this. Or rather, I never did. I was always the grudge-holder in the relationship. And he'd never said such horrid things to me before...never crossed those invisible lines in a fight before...but I had forgiven him so much more easier than any other fight.

Maybe I was slightly insane...? Had a brain tumor...?

Or maybe it was just as it seemed. Maybe the fact that he crossed those lines had gotten some unbeknown creatures off our chests. Maybe, for once, the fight was helpful instead of hurtful.

I looked up at him, and his smile had faded to guilt (I noted that in my diagnostic log. I'd have to check family history later for certain disorders).

I touched his hand gently, "What's wrong?"

He didn't look at me.

"I'm a bad person."

"Why?" I breathed, almost scared of his answer.

He refused to look me in the eyes, "I kept thinking it should have been us."

Confusion was leaking through me at a fast rate.

"What?" I asked, "Jake, I don't...oh."

Lana. He was talking about how he reacted to Lana being pregnant. My posture went straight, and I shuffled slightly.

"You're talking about Lana." I murmured, keeping an eye on the floor.

He was also staring down, avoiding my eyes.

"Yes. I didn't mean to blow up...but with what had happened earlier...I couldn't contain anything anymore. I'm only human."

And of course I didn't blame him. I didn't think was a bad person. I just thought that was a bad thought.

"Yes. I understand. It's okay, though. Because I think I may have been thinking something along those lines also. We can both talk to her later."

He looked up, catching my eye. I suddenly wanted to be in his arms then anything else. I didn't think about anything, I just pressed myself up against him and wrapped my arms around his middle. His arms wrapped around me, and it was all I could do to keep from breaking down and being overly emotional. I was grateful we were able to work that out.

"I really am sorry, though." He whispered, "I shouldn't have undermined your pain. But..."

He hesitated.

"What?" I asked warily.

"You really want a daughter." It wasn't a question, so I let him continue.

"Maybe...we could...adopt? It shouldn't be that hard...after all, Isaak did. And he was alone on not a very good salary. We have plenty of money, we're fairly young...I think it would work."

He looked so scared of my reaction that I felt guilty. I, however, was hesitant about answering. Adoption...I'd considered it before. But even though I could get a child...it wouldn't be the same. I wanted a little girl that I could watch grow up and say "oh, that's definitely something she picked up from Jake" or being able to hear someone say "she has your eyes!" it's just...not the same.

"I'll...think about it." I said slowly. He grinned, and kissed me suddenly. His lips moved hesitantly, like they had for a long time. The pressure so gentle that it was as if he thought I'd break any minute. I rolled my closed eyes, and kissed him back fiercely. His hands were softly holding my face (his trademark), and my fingers were intwined in his hair. My confidence that I wouldn't combust seemed to transfer over to him, as he began kissing with greater fervor.

I was just allowing my mind to rest peacefully while my body took over, when he pulled away.

We were both breathing heavily, and I was kind of ticked off. I wasn't done kissing him!

"Your lips taste like vanilla." He grinned cockily. I sighed,

"You interrupted us to tell me that my lips taste like vani—Oh. Oh, no!" I cried, remembering I had cake in the oven that was probably ashes by now.

"What's wrong?" Jake asked, worry on his face. His eyes looked down my body, trying to figure out if he'd harmed me.

I frowned, "I just burned Jackson's birthday cake, I think. Yikes, I've got to go!"

I pulled out of his embrace, to run and try and save my poor cake, but he grabbed my arm.

"What kind of cake?" His voice suggested that it may not be worth my leaving.

"Double chocolate fudge." I replied.

He let go of me as if he'd been shocked.

"Go, woman, go! Run!" He cried urgently. I laughed and rolled my eyes, but flew down the stairs none the less.

"MOM! I THINK THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE!" Cole cried from the couch. He was watching television, and he basically just confirmed he'd rather burn alive then get up and miss his show.

I ran past him, straight for the kitchen. I made a beeline for the stove.

And sure enough, there was a crusty black rectangle where Jackson's cake should have been. Lilly came walking in, looking _too_ casual. I'd have to question that further later.

She looked at the lump of burned cake, "If you cover it in icing, maybe no one will notice."

I snorted.

"Yea, that's going to happen," I sighed, "Lilly, do you love me?"

She narrowed her eyes, "Why? What do you want me to do?"

I put on my best pouting face, "I need you to go buy a cake. Please? Pretty please?"

She sighed, "Fine. But you're paying for it!"

I reached into my pocket for some cash, and came up with nothing. I ran over to the kitchen table and grabbed my purse off it, and pulled out a one hundred dollar bill.

"Here ya go," I said cheerfully, "thanks so much!"

She nodded and exited the kitchen.

A voice startled me,

"So...sending Lilly out to buy a delicious cake and frame it as yours?"

A grin spread across my face as I looked up at my big brother. He was early, too early. But I didn't care. I hadn't seen him in what seemed like forever!

I moved over to hug him, but something got in my way.

The something was tall, ridiculously blond, and bright blue eyed. The something stared at me like she_owned _me.

The something was my brother's girlfriend.


	5. Victim

**A/n:** My muse for this story came home! And miraculously, my school work let up at the same time! So here's a new chapter!**  
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**"We are really the victims of our own problems." - Jimmy Greaves**

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I kept a carefully constructed mask on my face as I stepped back away from the blond girl. Jackson smiled apologetically at me.

"Who are you?" The blond asked. I noticed her voice was disgustingly nasally. And that her eyes were too big, and too far apart. Her lips were thin, but covered in a ton of bright, shimmery lip gloss. I glanced down at her clothing. She was wearing a pair of jeans that I could have worn when I was fourteen (and she definitely did_ not_ need to be squeezing into), and a top that spilled out over the top with way more of her then I ever needed to see.

Jackson rubbed her back soothingly as though my presence was threatening her. This gesture made my skin crawl and my blood boil. With renewed vigor, I smiled probably the fakest smile I'd ever smiled and replied,

"I'm Jackson's little sister. You must be Rachelle! I've heard _so _much about you. Of course, not all I would be willing to tell you! Oh, not that it's bad. Trust me, it's not. It's just, I don't think you'd appreciate me saying all the things Jackson says about you in the—"

Jackson's hand quickly covered my mouth, cutting me off. His girlfriend was standing with a defensive posture, and staring at Jackson in anger.

"Rachelle? Who is _Rachelle_, Jackson?" She spat angrily. Jackson glared at me before turning to that girl,

"She meant you, darling. I think she just got the names confused. _Didn't _you, Miley?"

Jackson's eyes pleaded with me, and for a moment I forgot what a bitch that girl was.

"Yea, I guess so. He was definitely talking about you." My voice sounded pretty flat, but it was good enough for what's-her-name.

"This is Mallory ." Jackson quickly introduced. He was clearly doing this just so I couldn't mistake the names on purpose again.

"Hello." I muttered under my breath.

"Mallory, this is my sister Miley Stew—"

I sighed before cutting him off, "Ryan, Jackson. R-Y-A-N. It's been that way for a long time. Please try and behave."

As much as I loved to disrespect his whore girlfriends, he loved to conveniently "forget" I was married while introducing me.

He rolled his eyes, "Yes, _Ryan_. Speaking of the twerp, where is he?"

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Twerp? Are you referring to my husband?"

"Obviously."

At the mention of Jake, Mallory's eyes suddenly widened and she looked a heck of a lot more excited to be here.

Oh, so she was going to be one of _those _girls. O joy! O rapture!

"Well, why don't we all go sit in the parlor and I'll go fetch him?" I suggested; eager to get away from Mallory.

"Okay." Mallory agreed. I walked past Jackson and Mallory, and led them out of the kitchen.

"Oh yes, let us go retire to the _parlor_," Jackson mocked in a fake English accent, "where we may, of course, sip our tea leisurely and you may express pleasure at the idea of getting all of us acquainted."

I stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned to face Jackson with a smirk on my face,

"Just because some of us can speak properly doesn't mean they should be mocked."

I turned back around before he could reply and continued leading them down the long, mahogany colored hallway. After passing numerous doors, and Jackson making various comments about getting lost in this house, I opened the French doors leading to the parlor.

I led them walk past me and I followed them in. The room was sea foam green with two white leather couches on opposite walls facing each other. In the middle of the room was a large, glass coffee table with intricate designs on the silver metal frame that held it up. There was no television in this room, only a large bookshelf built into the wall on the far side by the door.

I smiled at them as they sat down on the eastern leather couch.

"I'll be back in a moment."

I backed out of the room and shut the door gently behind me. Letting loose a breath I didn't know I had been holding, I made my way quickly up to the attic. I wasn't sure if Jake was still up there, but it was worth a shot.

Upon entering the attic, I noticed two things simultaneously. One, I really needed to stop taking so many pictures. And two, Jake was definitely cleaning up this mess.

I moved three overflowing boxes with my feet as I spotted Jake sitting in the middle of a mountain of boxes. He looked up at the noise of entrance, and smiled at me.

"Is the cake alive and well?"

I shook my head sadly, "No, it didn't make it. But I've got worse news."

I pushed a few more boxes and climbed over a big one. I moved a stack of pictures out of the way, and sat down beside Jake. He set down the pictures he was holding, and took my hand.

"What's that?"

"The witch is here."

He jumped in shock. "What is my mother doing here? I thought she was out of town for something!"

I couldn't contain my laughter after that statement. It flowed out of my mouth like a waterfall, and it crashed into every other noise and took it under.

"Not your mother, smart aleck. Jackson's girlfriend."

His forehead creased in confusion.

"Anna?"

"No, Mallory."

"Mallory? I thought her name was Anna?"

"You should definitely call her Anna and see how she reacts." I replied, laughing at the mental image of how she would flip out again. Jake shook his head,

"Let me guess, you already know what said girl's reaction will be?"

I sniffed, "I really thought her name was Rachelle."

"I'm going to call her the wrong names all night!" He exclaimed, glee coloring his words. I opened my mouth to tell him not to, but thought differently.

I grinned.

"Make sure to call her Lilly at least three times."

Of course Mallory knew of Jackson and Lilly's history. And she loathed her for that reason.

Jake laughed a rather evil sounding laugh and helped me up.

"This is going to be so much fun!"

I rolled my eyes. "It's not nice to pick too much fun at whores."

He snorted, "Yes it is."

I was about to reply, but my response was cut off by a high pitched scream. I winced and Jake shuddered. I looked at him questionably.

He grimaced, "Every time a woman screams like that, it's never good for a man."

I sighed and said, "Come on. Let's go downstairs and see what's going on."

We ran down the stairs and I quickly followed the sounds of the screams. I walked into the foyer to see Lilly and Mallory standing in front of each other. Mallory was screaming like a banshee, Lilly had her hands clamped over her ears, and Jackson was trying to calm Mallory.

This went on for a few more seconds before I screamed, "SHUT UP!!"

Everyone fell silent and looked at me. I sighed and looked at Mallory in annoyance.

"What is going on?" I asked angrily.

Mallory raised her French manicured nail and pointed at Lilly.

"That's Lilly Truscott; the girl who used to date Jackson and is now dating my ex-husband!"

"Awkward…" Jake sang underneath his breath.

"And?" I pressed. She looked at me with a flabbergasted expression.

"And what? She can't be here!"

I glared at her, "Lilly is my best friend. She's been my best friend since age ten! She's not going anywhere."

It fell silent as Jackson glared at me; Jake glared at Jackson, Mallory glared at Lilly, and Lilly glared back at her.

Jake broke the silence, "I don't believe we've met, Anastasia. My name is Jake Ry—"

"It's _Mallory_!" She turned to Jackson. "How do you explain that, you cheater? And don't say he got the names mixed up! Mallory and Anastasia are nothing alike!"

I stifled a laugh and said loudly, "Why don't we all head back into the parlor. And Jake can stay with you guys,"—he glared at me—"while I go and invite some people over!"

"That's sounds just peachy!" Jake matched my fake optimistic tone. It faded down to a pathetic monotone as he sighed and said to Jackson and Mallory, "Let's go."

I walked into the living room and grabbed the phone on the table. I quickly called my dad, Jake's parents, Lana, and Oliver. Oliver had to take Emily to Book Club, Jake's parents were still out of town, and my dad had to go speak with some recording company about some business of his. Lana was the only one available to come, even though she was still pissed off at Jake.

I sighed. I was hoping if we had more people here, it might help regulate things a bit.

This was going to be a long night.

I traveled back down the hall and into the parlor. Lilly and Jake were on the western couch; Jackson and Mallory were on the eastern. I quickly sat down beside Jake.

I smiled the most pleasant smile I could muster up.

"So, how is everyone doing?"

"Fine." Jackson said.

"Lovely." Lilly said, a hard edge to her voice.

"Peachy." Jake mocked the same tone he'd used before.

"Wonderful!" Mallory beamed.

"That's…great." I couldn't seem to locate anything bitchy in her voice this time…so maybe she isn't so bad?

"Oh! Miley, Jake." Her voice was sympathetic, and I automatically cringed at the memories that tone issued.

"I read about your two babies that died in the magazines. I'm so sorry!! I cried when I read it! How tragic that must have been!"

My blood was ice in my veins. It stabbed me every time is pumped through my system. Cold sweat broke out on my forehead, and my hands grew clammy. My stomach churned, and nausea overtook me.

I head Jake inhale sharply. Lilly seemed too shocked to say anything.

"I-It's not your fault." I breathed, my voice small. I prayed she's let it drop. My heart was strangling me.

Mallory seemed unaffected, "What were their names again?"

Jackson was appalled. His eyes kept darting from my face to Jake's. He grimaced after glancing at me. I wasn't sure what my face portrayed. Lilly was shaking with anger.

"Joy Grace." Jake's voice came from beside me. It was flat. It shook through my body and cracked my bones as easily as if they were made of glass.

I gasped quietly from the pain.

"Isabella Chloe." I supplied the rest quietly. My voice was shaky. I held my breath for a few seconds. After a moment, I thought she was done and I let relief leak between the breaks in my glass bones. Just as it began to cement them together, she went on.

"I never saw a picture of Joy. I guess that's because she was the one that was born dead, right?"

Was breathing always this painful?

"I did see a picture of Isabella though. Jackson showed it to me. She was gorgeous. She had Jake's eyes and your hair, just a bit lighter. It's a shame she never lived. I keep thinking how much she would have been able to do with those looks! From pageants to boyfriends…she would have been so happy. Maybe she even would have been good at singing, or acting. You'll never know now though. Now it's all wasted underneath the earth."

Warm water was burning a trail down my face. Lilly seemed unable to say anything. I could feel Mallory's eyes staring at my face. She was a monster!

I quickly jumped from the seat and murmured, "I'm sorry. I'll be back."

Before I left, I heard Lilly scream, "You _bitch!" _

I ran down the hall. I yanked the bathroom door that was beside the front door open and hurdled myself down on the floor. I leaned my head over the toilet and my stomach released its contents. Once I had nothing left to be sick with, I laid my hot head on the cool tiles. I couldn't stop shaking. I could hear Lilly still screaming at the stop of her lungs, and other commotion.

I finally started crying again. It helped lift the pressure that was forcing my heart into my throat and strangling me. I sobbed with vigor, trying to get the hurt away. The way she had worded those things…how casually she'd said it…I cried heavier.

Suddenly, I heard the bathroom door open.

"Mom?" The voice was frightened, and Cole quickly sat down beside me on the floor. He shook my shoulder, "Are you okay?!"

I shook my head. He patted my shoulder a few more times, then get frightened again.

"AUNT LANA!" He screamed loudly.

A few moments later, I heard a new voice.

"What's wrong with her?" Cole asked. Lana's voice was shaking with anger. She retold the story to Cole quietly and quickly.

"BITCH!" He thundered, before going back to the parlor.

"Miley?" Lana asked hesitantly. She sat down beside me.

I sniffed. All was quiet until she asked in a voice that sounded like her former seven year old self, "Do you need a hug?"

I didn't have the energy to do any rational thinking. I let my abused heart answer.

"Yes."

She hugged me tightly and we lied on the bathroom floor and cried. She was crying for her brother and me, and I was crying for my daughters.

It was never going it end, was it?

_Well you're art, you fell into this part_

_You play the victim perfectly_

_holding your beating heart..._

_you used to be so smart..._

**A/n: Song excerpt from Electric Bird by Sia (only the best singer ever!) I hope you enjoyed this chapter somewhat and that some of you still have interest in this boring story! I could use some feedback :D **

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	6. Heal

**A/n:** Sorry it took so long! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you so much for the encouraging reviews! I'm off to collapse from sleep deprivation. Link for the blanket mentioned in the chapter is in my profile. Goodnight!

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**"I cannot forget, refuse to regret...so glad I met you, (you) take my breath away, (and you) make everyday worth all of the pain that I have gone through." --Maroon 5 _The Sun_**

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The ceiling was a vast blanket of smoothness. Lying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, I could clearly picture the other ceiling I had become accustomed to sleeping under. It had intricate, beautiful designs carved into the white ceiling. This one was blank.

I still hurt. My whole body ached. I felt like I had swallowed ammonia. I took a deep breath, filling my chest. Lana had helped me up and brought me in Jake and I's room. She instructed me to lay down in the bed and rest. I wanted to go see what was going on. But I couldn't seem to make myself get up. I felt a little better here. I felt safe. The king size bed was overwhelmed with pillows. There were four at the head of the bed, and various ones piled on the sides. I wrapped the silver silk comforter around my whole body, and buried myself closer to the pillows. I pulled the blanket over my head.

Underneath the blankets and pillows, it was a warm, safe haven. The soft sheets caressed my cheek. I felt comforted by the logic that nothing could hurt me here. I felt like a child, hiding underneath the blankets from a monster in my closet. The only difference was that I was hiding from the skeletons in my closet.

I turned over on my stomach and pressed my face into the sheets. I breathed in the familiar smell of the laundry detergent. Nothing had changed here.

I laid in that position for a while, hovering somewhere between sleep and consciousness. I had some knowledge of what was going on around me, but I wasn't focusing on it. Sometime during the night, I felt the weight on the bed shift. I tried to grasp reality so I could sit up, but it was hard. My mind rejected reality.

"Miley?"

It was a very hesitant whisper. It was so soft that I was surprised I could hear it underneath all the blankets and pillows. But it was the one voice that helped me grasp the unhappy reality.

I pushed the pillows and blankets off me, and emerged from my haven. I didn't know how hot it had been underneath there until the cool air slammed into my body. I greedily sucked up the cool, fresh air.

"Yes?" I asked, turning to try and locate the voice in the dark. Once my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see Jake sitting beside me. Usually, I felt an aversion to him after a situation like the Mallory one. But at the moment, I got the strongest yearning to hold him. I needed him, and he needed me.

"Are you okay?" His voice was still quiet, as if he was afraid of waking up something.

"Are you?" I asked him. I knew what had happened was hurting him as much as me. I waited. It took him a moment to respond. He was truthful.

"No."

"Me neither." I said honestly. He lay back against the pillows and let out a breath. I leaned back also. For a moment, we both stayed immobile and silent. Then, hesitantly, his fingertips touched my shoulder. I rolled over on my side, and moved myself closer to him. His arms wrapped around my back and pulled me against him. I pressed my face into his chest and felt instantly better. I could tell he did, too. His muscles relaxed.

My mouth became possessed and spoke of its own accord, "It hurts my heart."

There was a moment of silence, and then he replied.

"It hurts mine too."

His voice was so vulnerable sounding, as if that was admitting a great weakness. I pressed my lips against his chest and kissed him—right where his heart was.

"I wish that would help." I sighed. If only we were little kids and mommy's kiss was enough to soothe our injuries.

"It did." His head bent down and his lips brushed against my collarbone. He kissed farther down until stopping right above the broken organ that was still somehow beating. He paused and kept his head in that position. I felt something was traveling between us, some sort of mutual understanding. His lips vibrated on my skin as he spoke:

"I love you." He kissed above my heart.

"I love you more." I murmured back. He exhaled deeply. His warm breath brought goose bumps up on my skin.

"Doubt it." His brought his head back up. His hand gently moved me back into the position I had been in prior. He rested his cheek on the top of my head. I could hear his heart beat, and feel his light breathing. I matched my breathing to his automatically. His legs intertwined with mine and he kissed the top of my head. I let my eyes drift shut. When I did, I saw her little face behind my eyelids.

My quickly opened my eyes and the pain started penetrating me again. I must have gasped, because Jake was suddenly concerned.

"Are you okay?"

My demon mouth spoke again.

"I keep seeing her." The whisper was full of pain. His arms pulled me closer against his body. He pressed his face into my hair.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." His murmur was full of more pain than mine. I shook my head gently.

"It's not your fault, it's mine."

He sniffed. "It is. If I would have protected you better all those years ago…he never would have been able to hurt you. You never would have gotten shot. And I'd be able to give you what you really want. It's a terrible thing, you know. To wake up everyday and see the tortured face of the person you love the most, and know you caused it."

His rant left me frozen. He felt guilty? I softly pulled my head away and looked him in the eye. His eyes were moist, and he stared back with gentle eyes.

"That's ridiculous. It's not your fault. You save me so many times, in so many different ways." I said seriously.

He looked away. "If I hadn't had listened to him…"

"It's over with. It's already happened." I stated. He looked back at me.

"One day, it will happen."

"What?" I asked him.

"You'll be happy. I'll make you happy." He whispered. I rested my head back against his chest.

"You do make me happy. You make me the happiest I've ever been. There is no life without you, never mind happiness." I stated softly.

"Happiest you've ever been," He repeated slowly. "That's not much to live up to, seeing as though you only lived fourteen years prior. I don't want to make you the happiest you _have _been. I want to make you the happiest you _can _be."

I breathed in the perfume of his t-shirt and sighed.

"Must you always aim for the stars?"

He kissed my cheek, "No. With things concerning you; I aim much further."

I pulled my left arm out of his arms and draped it across his back. I snaked it up until I could stroke his face. I gently ran my fingers through his hair. I paused and looked at him seriously.

"Why isn't the sky good enough for you?"

He didn't answer. His eyes bore into mine. He studied my face.

"What would make you the happiest you can be, right now?"

I craned my neck upward and kissed him softly.

"I want to sleep in your arms. That would make me happiest."

Without a word, he pulled my arm back and cradled me against him. I meant to say something else, but I really was tired. The last thing I heard was a soft whisper in my ear. I wasn't awake long enough to make sense of what he said.

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Something bright was burning my eyelids and face. I groaned and blindly reached for the blankets. When my fingers made contact with the soft material, I yanked it up and over my eyes. I drifted back to sleep for a moment in my dark little makeshift room before the heat hit me. It was _sweltering_underneath the heavy comforter. My eyes snapped open from discomfort. I was staring at an illuminated silver comforter. I pushed it off me, and sat up. The four large windows along the east wall of our room were thrown open, and the bright sun leaked in. Since the main color theme in the room was silver, everything looked especially beautiful and scintillating.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and forced my unwilling body to sit up straighter. I studied the bright sky. The sun was in an odd place. It was directly in the top of the sky. Almost like it was midday…

My head snapped to the clock on the wall. I squinted to make out the little numbers around the hand. It was three thirty-eight in the afternoon.

I gasped and tried to climb out of the bed too quickly. I rolled out of it and landed on the floor. I quickly scrambled up and ran over to the table that held the electronics. My hand grabbed the first phone it could. I pressed schedule. Sure enough, I had to work today.

I co-owned a center for victims of rape, sexual abuse and assault. About a year after Luke and Luann's death, I'd met a woman named Melanie Smith on the Internet. She had been a victim to sexual assault growing up (her mother's boyfriend abused her), and we began talking. And talking turned to having coffee together on Fridays, and the next thing I knew, we started a center together. It took a while to get it built and up and running, but once it did, it was fabulous. I felt as though I'd finally found my calling. The admission was cheap, so even those of low income could get help. We hired top notch teachers to teach those still attending school their studies during parts of the day, wonderful (safe) therapists available to those who wished to speak to them, good living quarters, and plenty of group discussions.

Even though there are so many rehabilitation centers, ours had something to it. Before Melanie and I were sure what was happening, we were getting a lot of honors, publicity, and students. I think it was the way we decide to handle things that made it work better than all the other centers. Unlike all the others, which basically told you what you were going to do and when you were going to do it, you were pretty much free. You didn't have to go talk to a therapist, you didn't have to go to group discussions, and you didn't even have to leave your room if you didn't want to. However, they did want to. The free reign worked because they got to talk when they needed to, and everything revolved around their comfort. Because there were no men working in the center (Melanie's theory was that because a lot of the girls were assault by teachers and doctors, they wouldn't trust any of the men working here), they felt really safe.

And so for the first time in my life, I was working in an office. I mostly looked at job applications, handled publicity, talked to parents and students interested in coming, organized the funds and events, and handled the very few behavioral problems. But one of my favorite jobs in the whole place was the Elementary building.

I think the first time I went into the building was the first time realized I really wanted a little girl. I loved to go in there and see their little smiles and watch them get so excited over me bringing a dress for them, or doing their hair pretty. All of them were girls ages four through ten, and they were all victims of sexual crimes. But helping them get better was one of my joys of the whole job. Of course I related to the girls in the high school building more (Ages fourteen through eighteen), but the girls in here were so carefree and innocent, even through the odds of what had happened. They could and would move on easier. I liked to see that, it made me feel hopeful that everyone could.

How could I have forgotten I had to work today? I was supposed to meet with some students today and talk to a parent!

I opened my chest of drawers and blindly pulled out the first things my fingers touched. I ran over to my closet and quickly threw the door open. My eyes skimmed the racks of clothes. I grabbed the first blouse and black skirt I saw. I halfway flew into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

I looked in the mirror. I needed to wash my hair and style it, but I didn't have time. I yanked open a drawer on the vanity and pulled out a hair tie. I brushed through my hair and pulled it back into a pony tail.

I struggled to pull of the jeans that I had slept in last night by accident. The button had dug into my skin sometime during the life and left an angry, painful, red mark. I hopped on one foot as I pulled them off my body. I quickly pulled my red flannel shirt off and flung it somewhere in the bathroom. I pulled the rest of my clothes off, and then the new ones on so fast I was surprised that I didn't end up with my bra on my legs. After brushing my teeth in record time, I glanced in the mirror again to make sure all clothes were intact. When I deemed myself decent, I flung the door open and grabbed my purse, phone, bag, and folder off the table in the corner. I was halfway out of the room when I realized I needed shoes. I ran back into the room and into the closet and grabbed some high heels randomly off the floor.

I grabbed my things off the hardwood floor and ran down the hallway. Before reaching the foyer, I ran smack dab into someone.

"Whoa! Where are you running off to?" Jake asked in surprise, studying my disheveled appearance.

"Work!" I exclaimed breathlessly, "I was…supposed to…be there today."

This seemed to upset him. He frowned. "Why don't you just take the day off today? You need a relaxation day."

I shook my head fervently. "No, I have to be there today. I'll call you later, okay? But I've really got to go now."

He sighed and nodded. I took off running toward the door again.

"Bye!" I yelled over my shoulder. He repeated the statement. Once in my car, and driving down the driveway, I realized I was really hungry. Moreover, I realized that I wouldn't get another chance to eat until late tonight.

Work today was going to be lovely.


	7. Smeared

**A/n: **I'm not too proud of this one, but oh well. (sighs) mucho thanks to my beta Jen for helping me think rationally and talking me out of stabbing this story and burying it. Because I really wanted to. lol Enjoy XD

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**"Some parents really bring their children up; others let them down"-- Unknown  
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Cole's POV

I studied the painting. My eyes trailed over the colors and designs. I lifted my hand and trailed it over the rough texture of the canvas. The smell of paint was perfect. It was home, it was familiar, and it was the only thing I could count on. It never let me down. I always knew what aroma would fill my head when I opened the can.

I squinted my eyes and picked up the canvas. I rotated it to the right.

Something wasn't right.

I eyed the person sitting on the bench. Maybe their head wasn't proportionate. I stared at it. It looked the right size…

So what was wrong?

I'd been working on this painting for three months. And I still couldn't figure out why I didn't like it. Something was out of place…something was missing…

I groaned in frustration. Knowing my anger would make me do something to it I didn't want to, I moved it off the easel and set it to the side. I picked up a fresh piece of paper.

I set down my paints and took a black oil pastel in my hand. I stared at the paper.

A knock interrupted my ponderings.

I sighed and set the pastel down.

"What?" I called.

"Can I come in?" A small voice asked. I sighed and groaned internally. Emily Oken. She used to be so cool, but then she got into reading and academics and she's such a boring person now. Not to mention a goody-good two shoes.

"Sure, why not?" I muttered.

The doorknob turned and the door opened. Emily awkwardly walked in. I glanced up at her. I couldn't ignore the fact that she was beautiful. I was a guy, and she was gorgeous.

If only she wasn't so obnoxious.

Her yellow sundress looked good on her body, and her hair looked very soft as the curls rested on her shoulders. She'd grown up a lot since we used to play in the mud together.

"Yes?" I muttered in automatic nasty voice. I winced after I said it. It was such a norm to say things in that tone that I sometimes didn't stop to think about it. And the hurt look on her face made me sure I shouldn't have said it like that.

But the hurt expression left and out of the corner of my eyes I saw a hard, determined look take its place. She sat down in my computer chair. I picked up my oil pastel, determined to get something done today.

I brought it to the canvas and began drawing. After a few moments, I heard a gasp and a splash.

Oh no. What did she do? I slowly peeked out from behind my easel. Emily had her hands covering her face in horror. She was shaking her head,

"Oh…my…I'm…so sorry….Cole!" She struggled out in horror. I looked down to see a glass of water had tipped over on my desk, and was spilling on the painting I'd worked three months on.

"NO!" I cried out, as I jumped up to save it, "NO, NO, NO! HOW COULD YOU BE SO CLUMB—

I stopped short. The water made a smeary trail down the sky and straight through the person. I stared at it, before it suddenly sparked my interest.

I picked it up. I studied the smeary trail.

"Emily?" I asked calmly.

"Y-yes?" Her voice was shaking.

"Can you hand me the other glass of water?"

She quickly did was I asked. I set it down on the tray in my easel, and dipped my finger in it. I brought the wet finger down on the person. I rubbed the water around until the paint was smeared and the person was blurry. You couldn't see any detail, just the blurry out line of a person sitting in setting where detail was everywhere.

I liked it.

I wiped my finger on my jeans and set the canvas flat on my desk to dry. She shakily looked at me.

"I'm sorry," She apologized again, "I didn't mean to."

"It's okay," I assured her, "I like it better that way. I didn't really like it before."

It was silent for a moment.

"C-can I look at it?" She asked hesitantly. I shrugged, picking up my oil pastel again.

"Sure."

I pretended to draw while I really watched her. She stood up and walked over to the desk. I waited for her reaction.

"I like it," she said softly, "It's…powerful. It's like…showing how everyone around you can be so happy and content…but you aren't. You feel like you aren't really there…and that everyone is so busy in their happy lives that they don't stop to see the hazy life you live.

I kept my eyes on my drawing. I kept my face constructed carefully, while inside I was swirling with confusion. She had said exactly what I had been thinking…it's like she read my mind.

"I'm glad you like it." I finally said. She sat back down in the chair. I drew, while experiencing weird feelings. I felt so…close to her all of the sudden. I hadn't even talked to her in a few years. However, I realized that while everyone had let me fall into the cracks…she'd always given me the time of day. She had always been there.

"Can I draw you?"

The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about saying them. Her dark eyes meet mine in surprise.

"Draw me?" She said uncertainly.

I cleared my throat awkwardly, "Yea. You know…like a portrait."

I wasn't sure why I asked it, but now I realized why. The sun was coming through the window on her right brightly. It outlined her hair beautifully, and bathed the right side of her face in golden sunlight. The effect was nice.

"I don't know… I'm having a rough hair day today. I'd hate to have my hair looking like this permanently." She laughed nervously.

Bad hair day?

"Don't worry," I assured her, "your hair looks fine. So can I?"

She paused, and then nodded. I smiled.

"This may take a while, is that alright?"

She bit her lips, and things that I could never image were running through her head. Probably things she wanted to do…places she was supposed to go.

"It's fine." She whispered.

I grabbed a fresh piece of paper.

"Okay. Here we go."

* * *

Jake's POV

"What do you think they're doing in there?" Oliver asked nervously, tearing his eyes away from the TV to look at the stairs nervously.

"They're probably just talking."

I looked back at the TV. We were currently watching some cooking show because nothing else was on. And the food looked really good. Plus, while no women were here, it was pretty boring.

"But it's so _quiet…_and they've been up there for five hours now." He argued.

"Maybe they like each other, and are getting better acquainted." I joked.

Oliver let out a sound that did not sound like a sound a human being was capable of making.

"_What_?!" I glanced at him fearfully. If he had a stroke, I'd be in trouble. His face was really red, and he was sweating.

"Geez, Oliver. I'm _joking_! You need to lighten up. Emily's almost fifteen though, Oliver. Soon she'll be dating boys, sneaking out, getting married—

"Stop…before…I…die!" He struggled out, holding his chest. I shrugged, looking back at the TV.

"All I'm saying is that Emily is pretty, and the boys are going to start coming to her bedroom window."

He narrowed his eyes, "You'd better hope your son isn't someone I find outside her bedroom window. Because I'm buying a gun tonight. And whoever I find out there is saying bye-bye…"

I rolled my eyes.

"These next few years are going to be pretty tough for you old friend."

"No shit."

"Have you given her _the _talk?" I asked curiously.

He flushed.

"NO!"

I blinked, "Not at all?"

He shrugged. "Lilly and your crazy wife helped her through…puberty," he shuddered at the word, "So there's not much more I need to say. She's taken the class in school."

I shook my head, "Nothing's as efficient as a threat from your parents."

He smirked, "Yea because it was so efficient for you and Miley."

I frowned, "That was under different circumstances."

His face paled, "So you're saying if a stalker goes after her there's nothing stopping her from…oh God…where's the bathroom?"

I laughed, "Oliver, you know where the bathroom is."

His face was a light shade of green, "I meant where is the closest one. I don't want to get lost on the way."

"You'll be fine, Oliver."

"No I won't! You don't know how I feel because Cole is a boy! If you had a daughter you'd be right on the same boat as me."

I frowned, ignoring the snub and the pain that went along with it.

"I still wouldn't be as uptight as you are being."

"Yes you would—

He stopped short.

"You hear that?"

I listened carefully. And sure enough, I could hear it. Arguing. From outside.

The doorknob turned, and the arguing got louder.

"—such a lie, Jackson!"

I knew that voice.

Sure enough, the door opened all the way and Miley walked in, arguing with Jackson. He was angry.

"It is not! It wasn't her fault!"

Miley angrily slammed the door shut and turned around to face him.

"It was her fault, and that's all I'm saying about it. I wouldn't give a shit if you said she had eighty mental disorders. I don't _ever _want to see her again!"

Jackson yelled out in frustration, and grabbed her arms. I kept my eyes on his fingers as the flexed, and she moved in pain.

I jumped up and walked over there.

"Get your hands off her." I demanded. He looked up at me, surprised at the venom in my voice. He dropped his hands.

"Fine, geez. Don't attack me. You do know she's not a porcelain doll, right? Sometimes the way you treat her is ridiculous! She's not going to get bruised from me grabbing her arms! Chill out!" He grumbled at me.

But I ignored him, because sure enough, I could see light purple finger marks on her upper arms. I had to clench my teeth to keep from hitting him. God, I was so _sick _of people hurting her!

"Oh really," I hissed. I gently grabbed her forearm and held it out to Jackson. I heard her sigh in exasperation.

Jackson looked at the bruises in disbelief, "I barely touched her!"

I exhaled slowly out of my nose, trying to keep my anger under control.

"Don't let it happen again."

"Jake," She said, "Its fine. It doesn't even hurt."

I looked up at her. Dark circles ringed her eyes, and she looked bothered. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

"What's this about anyway?" I asked.

Miley turned to me.

"Jackson said his little girlfriend, oops I mean _fiancée__**, **_has a psychological problem that makes her feel threatened by every girl. So she tries to lower their self confidence."

Fiancée? Psychological problem?

Bull shit.

I turned to Jackson, "I don't care what's wrong with that bitch. All I know is you better keep her away from here."

"I'm marrying her!" He yelled in annoyance, "You people are going to have to accept her!"

My thoughts flashed back to how badly she'd hurt Miley the other night. How cruel she'd been.

I tightened my arm around her shoulders, even though I knew it was pointless. I couldn't protect her from everything. But I knew how much I wished I could.

"I don't care. We'll celebrate Christmas here instead of at Robby's house if we have to. I don't want that crazy woman anywhere near my family."

"You people are so…heartless! She has a mental disorder! It's not her fault!"

I felt Miley shake with anger underneath my arm. I looked up at her.

"Then why don't you just ship her off to therapy?"

He growled, "Because therapy isn't to help someone. It's to make it easier for everyone around them to deal with them."

"Really? Well you didn't have such a hard time shipping _me _off to therapy! You jerk."

She shook off my arm, and before I could say anything, left the room. I locked eyes with Oliver, and motioned for him to follow her. He nodded, and stood up.

I turned to Jackson.

"Why would you tell her something like that?" I asked.

He glared at me, "Because it's true! And if I remember correctly, you wanted to send her off to therapy as much as I did."

I clenched my fists too tightly that my fingernails dug into my skin.

"I didn't have the same reasons as you. I actually wanted her to get better because she was unhappy! It had nothing to do with me!"

"Well, if I remember correctly, you're the one that sent her to the man who ended up helping Luke come after her which caused her to be shot—"

I was having problems with self control. I stood a step toward him.

"Stay away from this house." I hissed.

"But—"

"_Get out!" _I thundered.

To my surprise, he did.

I felt a soft hand on my arm. I turned around and Miley hugged me. I felt better, and wrapped my arms around her. At least I could protect her right now.

"That wasn't true." She murmured, "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't."

But it was, wasn't it?

* * *

Miley's POV

"Now go see what they are doing!" Oliver demanded. I sighed, and pulled back from Jake. Oliver had been bugging me about Emily and Cole. He wanted me to go up there and see what they were doing.

"Why don't you come with me, since you want to know so badly." I suggested as I turned to the stairs. Oliver nodded franticly.

I climbed the stairs slowly, anger from Jackson still swirling around my brain. He'd come to my work with that bitch, and begged me to forgive her. The little wench didn't even apologize.

I stood out of Cole's door and pressed my ear to the door. I heard a scratching sound, and every now and then a light laugh or soft sentence.

"Well," I joked, "The good news is they're probably not doing it."

His eyed widened, and before I could do anything, he opened the door.

I eagerly glanced in. Both were looking up at us in surprise.

I studied the scene. Emily was sitting in a chair, and Cole was behind his easel. He was drawing her. A smile fitted my face.

"Sorry you guys," I said, "Oliver was getting a little worried and had to come up here and check on you. Dinner will be ready in about an hour."

Oliver was regaining color to his cheeks. He relaxed.

"Thank goodness, Emily!" he said, laughing nervously. She didn't move, but muttered through her teeth.

"_Dad_! He's trying to focus!"

Oliver laughed again.

"Okay darling! I'll see you at dinner!"

I looked at my son. His eyes were focused on the canvas and a look of deep concentration was on his face. I smiled bigger.

"Hello Cole." I greeted. He looked up, confused. He smiled a little back,

"Hi, Mom."

My cheeks hurt from smiling. I gently closed the door back.

"Phew," Oliver said, "I feel much better now."

I stayed silent. Emily was definitely a good influence on him.


	8. Blood

**A/n: **writing this chapter was painful. Not figuratively, literally. I ripped my fingernail off today...and my finger was killing me. So yea. But i hope you get enjoyment from my pain! Reviews are always lovely...

* * *

"**I've got a scar that reminds me to breathe.**"

* * *

"I still can't believe Jackson," Oliver started, shaking his head. He started to say something else, but stopped halfway. He looked up at the stairs and hollered.

"Emily Eve Oken! Get down here this moment! We need to leave! It's a school night!"

There was a pause, and then Emily's voice flitted down the stairs.

"Dad! He's almost done with the sketch!"

Oliver rolled his eyes.

"Em! It's already ten and you have school tomorrow! Let's go!"

"_Dad_!" She yelled, exasperated.

"She could stay here tonight, Oliver. She has her own room." I reasoned.

He shook his head, "She can't. I've got a meeting until late tonight and I won't have time to come get her."

I shrugged, "So?"

He sighed, "She has school tomorrow."

"So does Cole."

"Emily goes to a magnet school, remember? The bus doesn't come here."

I rolled my eyes, "Cole can ride the bus, and I can drop Emily off at her dance academy on my way to work. They are three blocks apart from each other."

Oliver was silent as he pondered this.

"Please Daddy?" Emily screamed from upstairs. I didn't even want to know how she had heard that.

Oliver sighed.

"Do you want to, Emily?" He yelled to her.

"Yes!"

He threw his hands up in frustration.

"Since all you pretty girls are ganging up on me I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"Thank you, Daddy! I love you!" Emily screamed.

He repeated the sentiment, and then turned to me.

"Is there something here for her to sleep in? Something for her to wear to school?"

"Of course Oliver. Don't worry so much. Besides, you need a night to unwind. So, shoo. Off you go."

I stood up, and grabbed his hand. I was ready to drag him out of the house. I was sleepy.

"Wait! I haven't gone over her allergies yet!" He stubbornly sat in the armchair. I pulled on his hand.

"Come on."

"No! I have to go over her allergies, what medications she might need, the dosages, what foods she likes, what kind of environment she does best in—"

"Oliver! She's fourteen! She can talk! She's very smart! Stop treating her like a baby!" I yelled. I pulled harder on his arm.

He didn't budge.

"I know what my little Princess Emily needs! And she needs to be taken care of!"

I put all my strength into pulling on his arm. He had to pull back to keep from getting pulled out of the chair. I gritted my teeth and tugged while yelling,

"Oliver-stop-being-insane!"

"NO!" He yelled back.

"Come on already! This is starting to hurt!" I complained, while tugging more on his arm.

"No one said you had to do this!" He stated, rolling his eyes.

I clasped both my hands on his forearm and started walking backward.

"Let go!" He screamed, trying to stay in the chair.

"It's time to leave, Oliver! You'll thank me for this one day! I'm helping you let go!"

"No you're not! You're _pulling me!_ I'm holding on tighter!" He yelled.

"You're such a donut!" I screamed.

I gave my last tug all my strength, and to my surprise, Oliver let all his muscles relax. Which sent him flying out of his chair, and into the air…

…and sent him hurtling into me.

"Omph!" I screamed. I lost my balance, and fell over. He fell with me.

With a clash of elbows and hair, we were all tangled up on the floor.

"Dammit , Oliver! You bloody moron!" I screamed, trying to get his head, or elbow, off my back. My face was pressed into the rug.

"Thanks to you I actually am bloody now!" He groaned in pain.

"I don't care! Just get off me already!" I screamed into the rug.

"I would if you would get your leg off my neck!"

"I can't do that until you get your back off my legs!" I yelled back.

"How in the world could my back be on your legs if your leg is pinning my neck down?" He exclaimed.

"…I don't know. That's a very good ques—"

Suddenly his elbow jabbed at my throat.

"Ughh!" I yelled out in pain. I kicked, and he screamed. I'm not sure where I hit him.

"Ge uf me!" I croaked.

"I can't!" He yelled.

"HELP!" I screamed loudly.

"OW! My ears!"

"My _throat_!" I retorted.

"You didn't have such a hard time screaming in my ears!"

"Just get your knee off my butt."

"It's not!"

"It is!"

"It's no-…oh, yeah it is. Oops."

"Now get off me!"

I struggled to sit up, but I could place a body part down to hoist myself up.

"I would if your arm wasn't pinning down my head!"

"It's not!"

"What do you think that squishy thing is you kept leaning on with your elbow?"

"Oh. Sorry."

"Should I…be concerned about this?" Jake's voice was full of humor.

"Help me Jake!" I howled, jokingly, "His knee is on my butt, and his elbow keeps jabbing my throat!"

"Don't listen to her! She made me deaf and used my head as the floor!" Oliver defended his self.

I peeked up at Jake through Oliver's hair. He was laughing while trying to figure out how to get us out of this.

"I don't even want to know how you managed this."

"It's this dork's fault!" I grumbled.

"Not! She wouldn't let me tell her Emily's allergies!" Oliver screamed.

I heard the thunder of feet running down the stairs.

"_Mom_!" Cole's voice exclaimed in shock.

"_Dad_!" Emily repeated the tone.

"They're stuck." Jake snickered to them.

"The first person to get me loose gets a whole pan of the cookie of their choice." I said quickly.

"Can the cookies be exchanged for something else?" Jake questioned.

"Sure! Anything! Just get this big goof off me! I think my butt is bruised! Oliver, what the hell? Please stop trying to get loose like that! You're pulling my hair!"

I felt Jake's hands grab my legs and twist them various directions before heaving Oliver's body off mine.

Air never felt so wonderful.

"Ah! Yes!" I jumped up. I looked over at Oliver. He was still curled up in a weird shape.

"Are you okay?" I asked hesitantly.

"No." He said.

"Sorry," I apologized for whatever I did.

I threw my arms around Jake.

"You saved me!" I exclaimed cheerily.

He smiled at me, "It's what I do best."

I shook my head cheekily.

"No it's not."

Emily and Cole each started talking at the same time.

"Okay, we'll just be going now. You three have fun doing whatever…"

"Um…I've got to go do this thing…eh…bye!"

Suddenly, Oliver was on his feet.

"Emily! Wait! I need to you to show Miley where the soft spot on your head is!"

I sighed in annoyance.

"_Oliver_! She doesn't have a soft spot anymore! She's a grown up! Now leave!"

He pouted.

"You want to kill my baby, don't you? You want to kill us both." He exclaimed.

I nodded at Jake. He walked over and took Oliver by the arm.

"This is for your own good, Oliver." He said solemnly. He pulled him by the arm toward the door, and pushed him out.

"Goodbye, Oliver!" I called.

"Wench!" He joked.

"Takes one to know one!"

* * *

I yawned, leaning back against the bed. I heard Jake running the water in the bathroom.

"Hey," He called, "should I use mint toothpaste, lemon toothpaste, or cinnamon?"

"I used cinnamon. Let's match. Besides, cinnamon is spicy." I joked. It came out more seriously than I intended, because I was so tired. I couldn't seem to put the right affliction in my voice.

"Okay! I'm all cinnamon-y!" He called, laughing.

I smiled, "Good for you."

I stayed resting for a moment, before sitting up. I sat up so suddenly, that the massive rush of blood downwards made me dizzy. I sat immobile for a few moments, trying to wade out the dizziness.

I glanced at the alarm clock. It was only ten, but I felt so tired. I must really be getting old. I frowned at the thought.

I placed my feet on the floor and stood up. I walked over the body length mirror that was on the closet door. While glancing in it, I looked past the appearance to fourteen years prior to now. There were only a few differences I could really see. One was my hair. That year after being shot, I'd made a rash decision while in the mall. I decided to get it chopped off. At the time, I didn't know why I was doing it. But now, looking back, I think I understand. Before getting it cut, every day when I looked in the mirror I saw that same girl. The girl who had been beat, abused, and scared. I didn't like to be that girl. So I got it all cut off. Well, not all of it. It rested a little above my shoulders. And that's the reflection I associate with being stalker-free. But it also reminded me of what my face looked like after I'd get home from the hospital, baby less.

Currently, my hair went about an inch past my shoulders. It was fine there. When I looked in the mirror, I saw neither the person of my happiest times nor the person of my scariest or saddest. I just saw a girl stuck awkwardly in between. Sometimes, when I looked in the mirror, I don't feel like myself. I feel awkward, like I don't fit in my own skin. Then I get frustrated, because if I can't rely on being myself what can I rely on?

The laugh lines I should have are nonexistent. At the age of thirty one, it would be natural to have laugh lines. Laugh lines to be a physical show of all the joy in one's life…needless to say, I didn't have any. I wished I did. I wished I had more time to laugh and feel happy.

I stared at my reflection for a few more moments. My eyes were tired looking, but that was because I was tired myself. I sighed, and turned away from the mirror.

I walked over to the corner of the room and sat down on the staircase that led up to the lounge. A few moments after sitting down, the phone rang. I grabbed the cordless phone off the table that was beside the stairs, and glanced at the caller ID.

Ryan, Jim 555-7856.

It was Alana, most likely. I pressed talk.

"Hello?" I asked in a very believable happy tone. I'd practiced this tone for over fifteen years. I was almost an expert on happy facades.

"Hello darling." She said. I could hear Jim laughing at the TV in the background, "how are you?"

I'd also become an expert at picking up pity in tones. And Alana definitely had that depressing undertone to her voice.

"Lana told you, right?" I sighed.

She sighed, too.

"Yes. I can't believe that horrid Mallory said those things to you. If she knew what it was like…" Her voice broke. As a mother that had lost a child, she understood. She was maybe the only person who did.

"She wouldn't say it," I finished for her, "but she doesn't know. So she doesn't care."

"I hope you didn't let her get to you. She's just a bitch who will never understand what the hardships of life really are." Alana's voice was full of anger.

"I can't stand her," I found myself hissing, "the way she treated me…as if I was just something standing in her way…and she acted as if I didn't have feelings. She acted like Isabella and Joy weren't babies, but rather the key to knocking me over."

"OW!" Jake yelled from the bathroom.

"What did you do now?" I yelled to him.

He whimpered, "I stepped on a pair of scissors or something…ow…shit!"

"What has that child of mine done?" Alana asked warily. I sighed,

"Stepped on a pair of scissors." I replied. I could just imagine her shaking her head.

"Oh, no…blood…it's gushing!"

"Thanks for calling, Alana. But I better get going and help make sure your son keeps both feet. Bye."

"Bye, honey."

I pressed end and set the phone down. I entered the bathroom to be greeted by a terrible sight.

He wasn't being his normal melodramatic self—the blood _was _gushing. His whole foot seemed to be bright red. A bright red puddle was forming on the floor. The blood ran over the tiles and seeped into the cracks between the tiles. It gathered there. Near where he was standing, the culprit laid innocuously on the floor. But it wasn't a pair of scissors. It was a pack of razor blades. They were scattered about the floor, and the empty box was upside down on the floor. It looked as though he had been reaching for something and knocked the box down.

"Oh, my goodness!" I gasped. I rushed over to his side, ignoring the puddle of blood my feet were drowning in.

I grabbed his arm and guided him over to the bathtub. I sat us both down on the edge, and moved his injured foot into the tub.

I turned on the faucet, and waited for the water to warm. While it heated up, I set my hand on his cheek.

"Are you okay?" I asked him over the roar of the water. He nodded, staring unseeingly at the water.

I was about to ask him what was wrong, when the water got scolding all the sudden. My hand jerked out from underneath and I cursed. I turned the cold water on and balanced it out.

Blood swirled with the water to create a nasty, pale red hue of water. I glanced at him again. The same dazed look covered his face. I was getting more worried by the moment. I didn't know how deep the slice was yet; I couldn't see it because of the blood. I was afraid he was going to have to get stitches.

I shuddered, imagining what the uproar it would cause if Hannah Montana and Jake Ryan walked into the emergency room.

I patted his arm softly, before standing up. Navigating carefully around the razor blades, I walked over to the linen closet and pulled a washcloth out. After grabbing that, I rummaged through the medicine cabinet. I located and pulled out the peroxide, cotton balls, Neosporin, and bandages.

I sat back beside him on the edge of the tub and set my tools beside me. I gently grabbed his lower leg and placed his injured foot directly underneath the flow of water. He inhaled sharply. I held it there for a few moments, until the red gradient on the color scale went down to a very light pink.

I lifted his wet foot and rested his lower leg on my lap. I patted the cut dry with the washcloth.

Once the water was gone, I leaned down so I could gaze evenly at his foot. The gaze was a long, crooked slice that started at the top of his arch and ended midway through the ball of his foot. I grimaced as the thought of how much it probably hurt filled my head. I doused a cotton ball with peroxide and saturated the cut with it. Almost immediately, peroxide-induced bubbles surrounded the slice and the area around it.

"There," I said as I let it disinfect it. I turned to look at Jake, who was a million miles away.

"Jake?" I called. I waited a few moments before he turned to look at me, still looking out of it.

"Are you okay? You seem so out of it. Does your foot hurt? I can go get you some pain medicine." I offered. He shook his head slowly, looking at his cut.

"Miley…" He started slowly. I raised an eyebrow.

"Why were those razor blades there?"

I blinked. I was confused at first. What did he mean? This was the bathroom. People shaved in the bathroom. However, I realized the oddity of the situation. He used a fancy, rechargeable shaver. I didn't use a razor at all. I used Veet (a hair removable cream) and therefore; no razor was needed.

For a second I could honestly be just as confused as he was. But suddenly, with a rush of shame—and blood to my cheeks—I realized I _did _know why there were here.

It was right after I had Joy, and came home without her. I was never going to really do it. At least…I don't think I would have ever had the courage. I would have held it to my throat, ready to do it. But at the last moment, I would have paused. And I would have wondered what it would do to Jake if he woke up in the morning and I wasn't there. I probably wouldn't have killed myself if I ever got one in my hand. Probably.

I just wanted them there so I had the option. I needed to have a way out…a choice. So many things were out of my hands…I was spinning out of control…just thinking about them there in the cabinet kept me sane.

"I don't know." I mumbled. I reached over beside me and grabbed the washcloth. I folded it over to a clean side and dabbed at the slice.

He placed his hands on my cheeks and guided my face up, so he could look in my eyes. Damn.

"You're lying!" He exclaimed.

I grabbed the bandage. I busied myself with squirting Neosporin on the pad.

His voice was suddenly serious.

"Miley?" I kept my eyes on the bandage. He took it from my hands and set it down between us. I looked up at him.

His green eyes bore into mine.

"Were you going to…hurt yourself?"

He kept his eyes on mine. I wanted to look away, so I could lie. But I couldn't look away. His expression fascinated me. As anything on his face tended to do.

My head was screaming at me: _Lie, lie, lie_!

My heart on the other hand was screaming: ……

"Not…recently." I chose my words carefully. But by the look on his face, not carefully enough. He got a defeated look on his face, and dropped his eyes. I waited for him to scream at me or something. But he just looked emotionally drained.

"I wasn't going to really do it, Jake. I just—"

His tired voice cut me off.

"But you wanted to." It wasn't a question. I wanted to lie, but something about his tone made me tell the truth.

"The idea was one of the only things keeping me sane." I answered truthfully. I continued with my truth tirade, "You were the other thing."

"Are you so unhappy that you want to die? Please tell me, Miley." I thought he was done, but he continued. The tone to this next statement saddened me and scared me equally.

"I thought you were getting better!" His voice was wavering; he was almost _crying_. I felt horrible then. He shouldn't be crying. How could I make him cry like that?!

"You were…happier! Please tell me that you don't feel the same way now. Tell me that you are better. Please."

A moment passed tersely. Finally, I answered him.

"I'm not sure if I'm getting better or if I'm just so used to the pain that I don't feel it as much anymore. But I don't wan--…" I stopped and restarted, "…I wouldn't ever kill myself. I love you, I love Cole, and I love everyone in our life. I was just going through some bad times. And like I said, I just needed it there, Jake. I just needed to know that I had an escape route. I needed it."

He didn't reply, so I went about fixing up his foot. After about ten minutes, I had it bandaged up tightly.

"Thank you." He told me after a long period of silence.

"Anytime." I replied. I stood up, and he awkwardly tried to place his weight evenly on the toes of his injured foot. After a moment of him hopping about, I pulled his arm around my shoulders and he leaned against me a bit.

I helped him into the bedroom, and he sat down on the bed. I stood there for a moment, unsure of everything. Then, suddenly, he grabbed my hand and pulled me over to him. My body crashed against his, and I fell into his lap. Before I could react, he had his arms around me tightly in a hug. He seemed to be afraid that if he let go, I'd disappear right before his eyes. I relaxed, and wrapped my arms around him also.

No words were spoken. But they didn't need to be. I understood. He didn't want me to go anywhere. He loved me. But I think deep down he was afraid of me. I think he was afraid to say or do anything that might make me upset. Now he 

knew that the thought of suicide had even crossed my mind, he wanted more than anything to block off all the roads in my head so it could never cross them again. Because I think he knew that if it did happen to, it would get all the way down the road and into the city.

While I was unsure of exactly what he was thinking, I knew what I was. I knew I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to look him straight in the eyes and tell him I wasn't going anywhere…that I was happy. I wanted to tell him that as long as I could look forward to waking up beside him, I could get through another day.

Looking back on that day, I kind of wish I would have. It might have helped ease the pain.


	9. Repeat

A/n: Well here it is…all 6, 539 words of it….that's about twice as long as my chapters normally are. Lol but yea, I hope you like it!! Thanks for the lovely reviews, favorites, and alerts!

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"**There's this girl in the mirror, I wonder who she is. Sometimes I think I know her and sometimes I wish I did. There is a story in her eyes, lullabies, and goodbye. When she's looking back at me I can tell...she's hurting inside." – Unknown**

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Sleep was comforting. Nightmares never were, but sleep in itself was. The best kind of sleep is the deep, deep sleep where you don't dream. When you're there, you're not real. For the hours you are asleep, you fall into this space where, for a moment, you don't exist. You just rest. Rest and forget.

I was dead for only three hours that morning when I was disturbed. The sound of a phone ringing jerked me awake. I could hear it through the fog of sleep. I was curled up to Jake's side—the normal sleeping position for me—and he was sleeping peacefully. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest against mine.

The annoying ringing was getting clearer. It was shrill and terrible as it pounded against my ear drums. I opened my eyes. The yellow flash of the alarm clock read three in the morning. I groaned. Who was calling this early?

I considered ignoring it, but I had history with early morning calls. They usually carried important news. I pulled myself up in a sitting position, and pushed the warm sheets and blankets off me. A cold gust of air met me unpleasantly.

I crawled out of the bed and crossed the room. The call ended, and the person called again. I quickly snatched the receiver out of the base, new fear leaking into me.

I pressed talk.

"Hello?" I whispered.

"Miley?" Melanie Smith's voice rang loudly through the phone and into my ear. I pulled it away from my ear, wincing. From the bed, I heard Jake roll over in disturbance. I walked into the bathroom with the phone and shut the door.

Flicking on the light, the whiteness startled my eyes. I blinked groggily for a moment, trying to get my pupils used to the sudden brightness. The room smelled sharply of bleach (my choice cleaner for getting blood off floors), and I scrunched up my nose in discomfort.

"Hey, Melanie." I whispered. I crossed the bathroom and sat down on the side of the tub.

"I'm so sorry I'm calling so late!" She apologized. I heard her husband talking sleepily in the background and her baby, Annabel, crying softly.

"It's fine," I assured her. I continued anxiously, "Is something wrong?"

She sighed, "Yes, unfortunately. You see—Todd! Can you _please _hold Annabel?—sorry. But yea, I got a call from Sam a few minutes ago."

Sam was the night guard that stayed at Melanie's and my center. Not that there were that many fights between the girls, but she was there just in case someone tried to sneak in or out in the middle of the night. There were a lot of angry pedophiles out for revenge. A lot more than you would ever really want to know.

"Oh no," I gasped, "Did someone get in?"

A sick feeling invaded my stomach. If someone got in and hurt one of the girls, I don't know if I could ever forgive myself. The Asclepius Center for Recovery was a place that was supposed to be safe. A place they could feel safe. And if someone invaded that…let's just say it will probably be the last thing they do.

"No," Melanie said, "apparently there was a nasty fight a few minutes ago, and they whole place is in a riot. Nurse Izzy is patching up the girls, but all the others are starting up ruckus…it's crazy."

A fight?

"And," Melanie continued, a guilty tone in her voice now, "they need one of us to come down. And normally you know I would never call you in the middle of the night, but Annabel has a cold…and—"

I cut her off, "No, it's okay Melanie. I can go. I live closer than you do anyway. Go take care of that beautiful baby of yours; I'll call you as soon as I get everything sorted out."



She laughed, "You're absolutely amazing, darling. I can't thank you enough. If things get too out of hand, just call and I can come down and help."

"I will! Have fun taking care of Anna. Give her a kiss for me. I'll call you later, bye."

"Bye!"

I ended the phone call. I sighed. There weren't usually that many fights…but when there was they were pretty bad. Let's just say a whole bunch of teenage girls cooped up together for a long period of time is a recipe for fighting.

I quickly opened the bathroom door. A puddle of light fell across the room. I searched my closet for something appropriate and realized I had forgotten to do my own laundry, so I had nothing really. I ended up choosing a deep red v-neck blouse and a pair of jeans.

I got dressed, fixed my hair, and quietly left the bedroom. I expected the living room to be empty when I got there, but I was shocked to see a dark headed figure sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall.

"Emily?" I called softly. She jumped, and her head snapped to me.

"Hi, Miley. I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" She asked guiltily. I shook my head,

"No sweetie. I have to go into work early. Why are you up so late?"

"I'm not feeling too well," She said, still staring at the wall. I sat down beside her, and gently set my hand on her forehead. It felt a little warm, but I couldn't be certain my hands weren't just really cold.

"What's bothering you?" I asked her, concern coloring my tone. Her small, cool hand suddenly grasps around mine. I squeezed her hand comfortably.

"Do you think my mother ever thinks about me?"

My throat tightened. Growing up without a mother, I understood what it was like. But what I didn't understand was what it must be like having a mother who just didn't want me. I wasn't sure how to answer Emily. I didn't want to upset her, or make her angry. I just wanted her to feel better. She was as much my daughter as she was Lydia's, if not more.

Lydia. The bitch hadn't shown her face since Emily was three. She showed up with a new husband, and three kids one rainy April day, and demanded that Oliver divorce her. They divorced—sole custody of Emily was granted to Oliver—and she left. That was it. She didn't even bother to send Emily birthday cards on her birthday or anything. And I knew she remembered Emily's birthday. How could you forget that?

Lydia was the only person on Earth that I really, really _hated_ with unadulterated passion. She had a beautiful, talented daughter. Emily was the epitome of the perfect child. And she just pretended she didn't exist. How can you do that? How could she bear to wake up on Emily's birthday, and know she had a motherless child out there somewhere? How could anyone not love Emily? How could anyone not love Oliver? As funny and sweet as they both are, it's impossible!

She's a failure. But she's the worst kind of failure. She's the girl who had it all, but gave it up just because she can. She lives with some man who doesn't care about her, with children who cry at night because she never bothered to tell them she loved them. She could have been with someone who would have loved her like she'll never know, and a daughter who would have taught her how to love someone else. Could is just like might; there's always that chance. But it doesn't change the fact that 'should have' and 'need to' are key elements in 'could' even being halfway plausible.

"You can never forget your child." I finally said.

I said the words truthfully, but a minute later regretted them. You can forget your children. You can forget them unintentionally. But forgetting them does not hinder on the love you feel for them.

"You can't forget the love you feel for your child." I restated softly. Her head turned, and her hazel eyes fixed upon mine.

"What if she never loved me? Miley, I don't understand something. I want you to explain it to me."

I nodded, waiting tersely.

"Why…" She stopped. After a short pause, she continued. "Why did my mother keep me? If she didn't want me…why didn't she just get me aborted?"

I looked out the window at the dark sky.

"She didn't know she wasn't ready to be a mother, Emily. She didn't know until after you were born. She thought she was ready for you." I answered.



"But you were ready for Cole." She whispered.

"No one's ready for Cole," I joked lightly. She laughed.

"But Lydia and I are different people. Some people are the mothering type…some aren't."

She threw her arms up in frustration.

"That's the problem, Miley! If you don't know whether you're ready for kids until after you have them, how do you know if you'll be a good mom? How do you know? How can anyone make the decision without knowing?"

I paused, absorbing this. I could sense there was something she needed to talk about. I nervously glanced at the clock.

"Do you really want to go to school today?" I asked her.

"Not really. I don't feel well." She said.

"Well, if you weren't planning to go back to sleep, you're more than welcome to come with me. I'm going to investigate a fight though, so I'm not sure you'll want to come."

"Ooh yes!" Emily exclaimed loudly, jumping. I smiled at her exuberance. She'd always wanted to come to my work, just to see what it's like. However, Oliver doesn't permit her to be there. He says it's a very negative environment for her to be in.

"Well, seeing as though you're still dressed…." I trailed off, considering asking her about that, but decided it wasn't worth it, "We can just head out now."

She nodded, and excitedly headed toward the car.

I kept my hands on the steering wheel, and my eyes on the road. Driving at night was unnerving for me when Jake wasn't with me. A lot of things were unnerving to me, actually. Like a certain flower called an Iris, three brown suitcases set in a line, and so many things that I usually spend most my days scared. I've mastered most of it, though.

For every little bit of the pain losing my children has added, the fear and pain Luke caused fades some. But it all averages together in the end of the day.

I still had bad days. Days when I couldn't force myself to get up...it doesn't happen as much anymore. It used to happen so bad, that Cole had to stay at my dad's for a few weeks after I got back from the hospital. I couldn't ever had him see me like that. Jake helped me through the episodes those times.

The episodes were worse after Isabella. So much worse. I couldn't let _anyone _see me after those. I remember clearly locking the bathroom door, and just laying in the bathtub, crying and screaming for hours on end. If craziness is a disease, I had it horribly back then. It was worse after Isabella, because I had three days to get to know her. Three days to understand her little quirks. And, God, I had only discovered a few! She was so little! As time went on, I would have discovered so many other beautiful things about my daughter. If only I was allowed the chance. She was a daddy's baby, just like Cole was. She stopped crying whenever Jake held her, and she would sleep so sweetly in my arms.

And then we walked out of the hospital without her.

I can in with her close to me, still inside me. And I walked out empty inside and out. I got a certificate of birth and death in less than four days. I often wondered as I lay in the tub—were her three days good? Was she happy all three days she was allowed to see the sun, and touch my world?

"Do you need to talk to me about something, Emily?" I said quickly, veering my thoughts away from anything that would cause me any more pain.

Her voice was flat.

"My best friend got pregnant."

I blinked in surprise. I worked hard to keep my hands steady and on the steering wheel.

"Well…okay. Has she told her parents?"

Emily looked out the window.

"She has nothing to tell them anymore."

It took me a while to understand her implication.

"Oh. She…aborted it?" I struggled out, stealing a glance at Emily's face. It was expressionless.

"Yes."

The word hung there for a moment like fog in the morning.

"And you…don't agree with this?" I asked.

"I don't know, Miley. I don't know what's wrong and what's right anymore. I don't understand _anything _anymore! All I know is, she did it without even thinking about it! I think that's the part that makes me so upset—she did it like it was just a dental checkup! No worry in the world. I just…I don't know if it was me what I would do…I don't know."

I remembered for a moment. I remembered that day more than fourteen years ago when I found out I was pregnant. I was terrified. And the subject of abortion was brought up as a choice. But I never considered it. And this girl…she didn't consider anything else. I had so many things I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue. I didn't want to force my opinion on Emily while she was still young, and her mind bendable. I wanted her to make up her own opinion on what was right, and what was wrong.

All too soon, the parking deck came in view. I pulled in my parking space. It was in the underground area of the parking deck. At night, it was dark and ominous down here. As I turned off my headlights, and the darkness engulfed me, I was suddenly very grateful I brought Emily.

We climbed out of the car. I locked my doors, and took Emily's hand in mine. We both felt less frightening then. However, our pace was still very fast. We quickly walked out of the parking deck and into the bright moonlight. There were barely any cars driving down the street during night time. We waited for a chain of three to pass before we quickly ran across the road, to the destined building.

When I pushed open the main doors, all hell broke loose. Everyone in the building seemed to start talking to me at once—nurses, guards, witnesses, friends of the girls in the fight—and it was extremely overwhelming. I pushed through the crowd, making sure I kept a tight hold on Emily's hand. I didn't want her stuck in the crowd.

The lobby was a normally large room. When it wasn't filled to the maximum capacity with upset people, it was very beautiful. The floors were hardwood, and the walls were a lovely cornflower blue color. We had two lobbyists who sat behind large wooden desks located adjacent to the doors. On both sides of the room, large staircases led to the upper levels of the building.

But the image of the room presently was chaos. Young women flocked the staircases—some even sitting on the railing—and adults of all roles filled the lobby, along with sleepy little girls in their pajamas.

I felt angered. Who had pulled the little girls from their sleep? They had nothing to do with the fighting! They were in an entirely different building! Why pull them from their safe beds to the area where the potential danger was?

I felt a pair of eyes on the back of my head. Suddenly, I could hear nothing. I ignored all the people, and turned around.

The two policewomen that worked here in the day time stared at me. And I suddenly understood.

They _wouldn't _have moved the little girls from their building into this building if there had been a fight here. They would have made sure to have them in the safest place. Which meant their building was unsafe for some reason. And they wouldn't have needed me or Melanie here as soon as possible for a fight. There were plenty of people able to take care of it here.

Which meant there was something else that had caused two teenage girls to be hurt. And in order to try and keep everyone calm, they said it was a fight.

My head spun around on my neck so fast I pulled something. My eyes scanned the crowd for a nurse. I spotted one pushing their way up the staircase.

"Excuse me," I murmured to the people are Emily and I as I tried to push through them.

"Mrs. Ryan!" A woman said politely, "is my daughter okay? My little Anya? She had nothing to do with the fight, did she?"

I turned to answer the distraught mother, when I was surrounded by guards and policewomen. They had fought their way through the crowd to here what I needed them to do.

"Can you please get this room cleared of everyone but the children and their parents?" I could spot various people with cameras in the crowd, and wanted them out.

They nodded.

"OKAY EVERYONE, CLEAR OUT!" One of them screamed really loudly, while the other blew her whistle.

Slowly, the people trickled out. The crowd was visibly smaller, leaving only about eleven parents, the large quantity of little girls, and the young woman on the stairwells.

I turned back to Anya's mother, "You're daughter is nine, right?" I tried to remember if this was correct. I was usually good with 

remembering the girls. The girl had in mind had the prettiest blond curls, and told the funniest jokes.

I guess I was right. The woman looked relieved I remembered her daughter, and nodded.

"Anya is perfectly okay; she had nothing to do with the fight. She should be in the room right now, if you would like to look around."

"Thank you!" Her mother said in relief.

"Miley?" Emily asked quietly. I looked down at her.

"That girl is motioning for you."

Her eyes were fixed upon the left stairwell. A fifteen year old named Mary was motioning with her hand for me to come up there.

I nodded at her. I guided Emily and I through the crowd and over to the first desk. I quickly picked up the PA receiver.

"Could I have everyone's attention, please?" I called into the receiver. My voice flitted through the building over the intercom.

Everyone slowly fell silent.

"First, if you are a parent and your child called you in panic I would like to assure you that everything is perfectly fine. Everything is under control. If you have a younger child and wish to locate them, please make your way to the main lobby. If you have an older daughter here at our center you should make your way to their dorm room after this announcement. To the young ladies, please start making your way to your room now. Once there, I would like you all to shut your doors so we know all of you are safe inside. I don't want anyone wandering the halls, everyone should be accounted for. The young children should stay in the lobby. Please abide by these safety cautions until everything can be sorted out. Thank you."

I hung up the receiver. Slowly, everyone (excluding Mary) started filing up the stairs to their bedrooms.

"Emily," I murmured to her, "I think something bad is happening."

She nodded, not taking her eyes off the young girls.

"They are distraught, that girl especially. They know something. If this was a fight, it must have been a nasty one."

"There was a fight alright," I whispered to her, "I just don't think it was between the girls."

"Miley!" A voice screamed. I turned in the direction of the voice to see the two heads of discipline. These two women used to be principals of high schools, and helped immensely with keeping everything in order. Since I couldn't be here every single day, and I wasn't the best at disciplining, they worked here. I don't think they minded at all though, seeing as though they made about five times the amount a week that they made in a month working as a principal.

"Thank goodness you're here!" I cried in relief as they came up beside me and Emily. They ignored my comment, and gazed at Emily and how she held tightly to my hand. I was nervous, and on edge. I didn't have time to chat. I needed to get upstairs.

"Is this your daughter?" Martha Madox asked with interest.

"She looks like you." Anne Jackson said, smiling at Emily.

I shook my head, "No, I don't have—…" I stopped. I _did _have a daughter. I had two. They just...

I changed my approach, "Emily is one of my best friend's daughter, and my son's friend."

"Oh." They must have awkwardly remembered the articles on Joy and Isabella in the magazines, because their faces were flushing with embarrassment.

"Anyway, could you take care of things down here?" I asked them both quickly, "I need to go see something upstairs."

Anne was already sitting behind the second lobbyist's desk, and Martha followed her lead. I took that as a yes, and Emily and I made our way to the left staircase.

We walked quickly, both knowing that we didn't have time to be stopped. When I started climbing the staircase, I realized how right Oliver was to not want Emily here. I suddenly didn't want her here either. I wanted to protect her from whatever might have happened. I didn't want her to know exactly how cruel the world really was.

"Miley? Miley Ryan!"

I wanted to keep going, but the urgency in the voice stopped me. One of our nurses was running down the stairs, looking for me. She sighed in relief, and grabbed my hand.

"I'm so glad I found you! We have Marlene Andes and Macy Wright up in the infirmary. Nurse Izzy is taking of them, but two officers 

are up there and asked me to get you as soon as possible."

I looked at her carefully. Her hair was falling out of it's bun, and her eyes were wide with fright as they tried to send me a secret message about what really happened. The only thing I knew from looking at her expression, was that Emily would not be going in that room with me. Something horrible was waiting in there, and I wasn't going to expose her to something so heinous.

I turned to her.

"Emily," I said softly, "do you think you could go with Nurse LeAnn? Just for a little while. Please."

Nurse LeAnn smiled in relief at me. She seemed relieved I'd understood what she wanted. Emily looked apprehensively up at the nurse, of whom she didn't know.

"Nurse LeAnn was just about to go to my office," I lied, "why don't you go with her? I've got tons of stuff to do in there. Feel free to do whatever you want to."

When I said the last sentence, I looked at LeAnn and added with my expression "except leave". LeAnn nodded, and Emily sighed.

"Okay. I'll just watch TV or something."

I smiled at her, "I'll see you in a few minutes."

I watched as LeAnn led Emily down the stairs, toward my office.

Feeling a little better without having to worry about Emily, I started back up the stairs. The lights were off in the stairwell, and they further I got away from the lobby lights, the darker it got. I ran my hand along the smooth banister, and tried to not be scared. But walking up dark staircases scared me. I was ever conscious about the back of my leg. I kept my mind focused there, reading to kick off any hands that might try to grab me. It's happened.

I kept walking up until it was pitch dark, and I could see nothing. This struck me as very odd. The girls had just been along this stairwell. Why would the lights be up?

A door slammed loudly from somewhere above me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I grabbed tighter to the banister. My heart was beating in my head. I climbed faster.

Finally, I could see the hallway before me. And I suddenly remembered Mary. Where was she? She was supposed to be waiting for me. I shook the worry off. She probably thought I wanted her to go to her dorm too.

I stepped into the hallway. The lights were dim. Most the lighting up here usually came from the large windows lining the walls. But since it was nighttime, it was rather dark.

I could see the doors shut all the way down the hall. That made me feel a little better. At least all the girls were safe.

I walked all the way to where the hallway forked off in two directions. I took the right hallway, heading toward the infirmary.

It was deathly quiet. I didn't hear anything except my own heartbeat until about halfway down the hall. I could hear muffled voices from behind the doors, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. I assumed this was because a lot of the girls went to their friend's room instead of their own. I couldn't blame them; I probably would have done that too.

Finally, I could see the bright light of the infirmary shinning through the cracks of the doors. I knocked lightly.

"Who is it?" A strained voice called.

"Miley Ryan." I called quickly; surprised to hear my voice was just as strained. The door was quickly unlocked and thrown open.

The bright light was blinding. Unlike the hallways, this room had very good lightening. I blinked and walked in. The door was shut immediately after me.

I was standing in the large waiting room. The walls were mellow sea foam green, and various people filled the cream colored armchairs. Most were policewomen, and four of the people were the two girls parents.

They stood up when I walked in.

"Please, what happened to Marlene?" The mother asked. I looked at her. Her face was lined with wrinkles, and her eyes were pained. Her hair was rough, and she looked so worried. I knew this was because of her daughter. The wrinkles from the nights she stayed awake crying for what happened to her, and the pain in her eyes from what her child had to endure and how she could never make it better.

I felt so horrible right then. This woman, she put her child in my hands. She sent her here to be better. And I let her be hurt.



"I'm sorry," My voice cracked, "but that's exactly what I'm trying to figure out."

As I said that, a hand settled on my shoulder. I looked behind me to see one of the policewomen.

"Can I talk to you?" She asked. I nodded. I followed her to one of the empty sick rooms, and she shut the door.

I sat down on the cot in the bright, cherry yellow room. She sat down in the chair.

I breathed in slowly, preparing myself for the worst. Why did everything horrible always happen to me when sitting on an examining cot in a doctor's office?

"What happened?" I demanded.

"We aren't entirely sure. All we know is, someone got in."

Oh no. I shut my eyes as the words seeped into me. This was exactly what I was dreading. This is exactly what we all dreaded.

"How? Who? Did they hurt anyone?" I asked.

"We don't know how!" She exclaimed, suddenly very upset. "It was so impossible for anyone to get in! We were all stationed at every single entrance this whole night! And there is no other entrance, is there?"

I thought about the blueprint of the building Melanie and I had poured over for hours on end, making sure it was as safe as possible. I nodded confidently.

"There are no secret entrances at all." I clarified.

She continued, "As for who, we need you to try and find that out. Marlene and Macy aren't talking to anyone."

"Why me? Why not send their mothers in there to talk? And did Marlene or Macy see the intruder or something before the fight?"

I was holding on to hope that the fight still caused their injuries.

The policewomen shook her head sadly, "No, we can't let the parents in there. When you see what condition the girls are in, you'll understand. We have two elite doctors from St. Peter's Hospital here that have patched them up. I know how you feel about men in the building, but it had to be done. These doctors are the best. A nurse was in there the whole time, if that makes you feel better."

I nodded, "I understand. What do we need to do to make sure everyone stays safe?"

"I have units searching the grounds right now, but we haven't come up with anyone. You have a panic room here don't you?"

"The whole basement is a panic room." I replied.

"We should probably get everyone down there, just for a precaution. Especially the little girls. And I'll get the whole station out here if I have too. We'll find this person."

She stood up to leave, but I stopped her.

"Wait! Do you have reason to believe it's a male intruder?"

She looked away from me.

"We have reason to believe that _they _are males."

A thrill of terror engulfed me, and I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. This was so much more terrible than I thought.

"Do you think they are still here?"

She nodded firmly. She acted as if she wanted to leave, but then turned to say something else.

"Personally, I think they're in the building. None of the other units seem to think so. What they want, I don't know. But what I do know is that people hold grudges, and if my daughter was here, I would want her in the safest area possible."

I considered this, and then nodded.

"I will call Anne and Martha and get them to start evacuating people into the panic room. We'll start with the children, then the young woman. Do you think you could spare a few women to help get everyone down their safely?" I asked.

She nodded, "Yes. Then, once everyone is down there, I'll get some more people out here."



I stood up. I thanked her, and she quickly left. I crossed the small room, and picked up the phone on the wall. I called down to the lobby.

"Hello, thank you for calling—" Martha started.

"Martha, something terrible is happening. A group of males have intruded the building, and we need to get everyone down to the panic room immediately. Do you think you and Anne can handle getting them down?"

There was silence.

"Oh, my God! Yes, of course we can. But…oh my…what do we tell everyone to keep them from panicking?"

I shook my head, "I'm not sure. Make up something. Just make sure you get the children down there, then the girls. A few policewomen should be down there to help you keep everyone under control."

She nodded. "I'll get Anne to make the announcement right now. Bye, stay safe."

"I'll try, you too. Thank you."

I hung up the phone. Trying to compose myself, I took a few deep breaths before opening the door. I was inside a nightmare.

Once again, all the parents looked at me again. I avoided their eyes. I couldn't stand to see the pain that lurked there.

"This way, Mrs. Ryan." Nurse Izzy told me, as she took my elbow. I let her pull me to the door in the center of the waiting room. I told myself to breathe, as she opened the door, got us both in, and slammed the door shut quickly.

I was staring in a mirror.

The broken figure in front of me was me so many years ago. Her whole body seemed to be covered in bruises and stitches. She stared at the ceiling, and looked to small underneath the blankets.

It wasn't just the expression that reminded me of that time Luke attacked me. It was her injuries. I remember that day clearly. I had just come back from Italy to see my family, and Jake was still on set there. I remember Luke beat me…he kicked me and hurt me. I remember where I had to get my head stitched up…

My hand grazed the area unconsciously. And with a sick feeling, I realized her stitches were in the _same place. _The exact place. I strange sound emitted from my throat as I walked closer to the girl.

Every step I took brought me closer to her bed, and made my knees weaker and weaker. I prayed it was a coincidence.

Once I was at her side, I brought my shaking hand to her shoulder. She turned to look at me with expressionless eyes.

"May I see your back?"

She pulled herself up, and seemed to know what I was thinking. She lifted her shirt so her whole back was in view.

It was covered in bruises and cuts. But one thing stood out to me. It was one cut that was deeper than all the rest.

Nurse Izzy saw what I was looking at.

"She'll probably have a scar from that one." She muttered.

I stared at the mark for a little longer, before pulling up the back of my own shirt and little, and tracing my finger over the scar identical to the girls.

"Yes. She will." I whispered.

One of the detectives sitting the corner jumped up. She walked over to me.

She looked closely at the girls back, at all the marks and bruises. Then she turned to me.

"Mrs. Ryan? Do you think you could let me see your back?"

I turned around, and lifted my back so my whole back was examined. Nurse Izzy looked at both our backs.

"Oh, my God. They're the same. They're exactly the same!" Nurse Izzy yelled as she moved over to look more closely at my back.

"Yes," the detective agree, "they are. Miley has scars exactly where this girl will have scars. She probably had cuts of the same depth in exactly the same place. Miley, did you have bruises on your back?"



I shut my eyes. I breathed.

"All over it." I whispered.

I pulled my shirt down and turned to face them. I pulled my hair back.

"You might not be able to see it now, but I used—"

"Oh, my God!" Nurse Izzy repeated as she saw the faint scar on my scalp underneath my hair. The detective gasped also.

"The same place." I whispered to them.

The nurse quickly moved the blankets back from the girl's right leg. It was covered in the bruises and cuts, but once again there were some deeper than the other.

They looked at me.

I wordlessly unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down to expose my whole right leg.

"I don't have many scars on this leg. The bruises all healed and the cuts weren't that bad."

"Hers aren't either."

"There's one." Nurse Izzy said as she pointed at a faint scar on my shin. They both turned to look at the girl's leg.

"The same! It's the same!" They were freaked out.

I pulled my jeans back up. The door opened, and the doctor came in. His nametag read Dr. Scott. The detective and Nurse Izzy explained it to him, and I showed my infamous scars to them once more.

He was pale.

"I was just coming in to tell you that Macy has the same exact cuts and bruises as Marlene does. And Marlene has the same as Miley."

I looked at the girl in the bed. So this was Marlene. Marlene with the mother who wanted her to be safe so badly. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

"What more information can you give me on Marlene and Macy?" The detective asked.

Nurse Izzy handed her two pieces of paper, "Here are their medical files."

The detective looked over it.

"Miley," She called, still looking at the paper, "how old were you when this happened to you? And who did it? And is he in jail?"

"I was seventeen. I-It was Luke Oken. And he's not in jail, because he's dead."

She looked up from the file, "I remember you told the whole story a long time ago at a press conference, didn't you?"

I nodded.

"I remember that!" Dr. Scott exclaimed, "I remember because my mother was appalled someone could do that to a pregnant woman."

The detective looked up sharply.

"Pregnant?"

I nodded.

"How far along?" She asked.

I was surprised I could remember. I think it was only because the cold woman who had given me an ultra sound had praised me on how healthy Cole was growing.

"Five and a half."

She shut the files. There was a moment of silence, then she said.



"What else did you notice about them, Dr. Scott?"

He stared at the ground as he said, "Their whole bodies were covered in cuts and bruises. And they were found with their clothing in positions that would normally mean they were raped…but they weren't. Oh. I remember something that struck me as very odd."

"What?" I whispered.

"Well, their stomachs were the only parts of them not covered in bruises or cuts." He replied.

The detective said, "I've got something even more odd."

We all looked at her. She sat down in the chair again.

"Both girls are five and half months pregnant, as was Miley. Both are seventeen, as was Miley. And both of the girl's names start with an M. Not to mention the physical characteristics. Long brown hair and blue eyes."

The room was spinning.

"Looks like someone admired your stalkers work," Dr. Scott whispered.

Nurse Izzy shook her head.

"It's more like they were obsessed with your stalkers ways. Maybe he was their role model."

I managed to get a few words out.

"So you're telling me there is a group of boys running around who look up to him?" I whispered.

Suddenly, the door opened and two cops came into the room.

"You tell us."


	10. Lie

**A/n: **sorry it took so long...but I've been busy and stuff...so yea. I hope you like this chapter and please leave your wonderful thoughts :)

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**"I didn't want to admit it, it was easier to lie, and hide the hurt and emptiness, to smile instead of cry"-- Unknown **

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The officers strolled into the room, and shut the door firmly behind them. Marlene jumped slightly from the sound. I looked over at her, concerned.

The detective stepped smoothly in front of me and Marlene.

"Officers," She nodded respectfully at them, "My partner and I have this investigation under control. I would appreciate it if you would kindly leave."

The largest of the officers smiled. He had a head full of brown hair, and his eyes were a dull, colorless brown. His round face held a haughty arrogance that I didn't like.

When he spoke, a full-fledged British accent filled the room.

"Don't get your knickers in a bunch, Nadine. Me and Jenkins aren't going to get in your way."

The detective, Nadine, scowled.

"Jenkins and _I_." She corrected.

He waved it off.

The lanky officer to the British one's right stepped forward.

"Actually, Nadine, Anderson and I have something we need to show you and ask our victim about."

His hand unknowingly grazed the zipper to the bag he was holding.

Detective Nadine nodded.

"Okay, get on with it then."

Jenkins and Anderson both nodded at me.

"We need you to leave, sweetheart. This is private evidence." Jenkins said.

Detective Nadine shook her head, "Actually, boys, she needs to be here as much as the others."

I stayed silent while she explained the situation to the officers. I fell into a tranquil state. Eventually, I found myself sitting on the floor. I pulled my legs to my chest and rested my head on my knees. Their voices were a quiet buzz in the background. For the longest time, I just sat there. I didn't think, I didn't move. I just sat.

"Miley?"

I lifted my head up. The officers were eyeing me suspiciously and Detective Nadine motioned for me to stand up.

I pulled myself to my feet and waited for something to happen.

"That's a very…_interesting_ story." Anderson muttered, still looking at me. I nodded gently in agreement.

"Well? Get on with it already!" Detective Nadine barked. Jenkins hastily set the bag on the chair in the corner. With his back turned to us, he unzipped it and extracted something.

He turned around to face us.

My stomach jolted violently, and my knees buckled. I grasped the bed to keep myself steady and on my feet.

Jenkins held the item up.

"Does this mean anything to either of you? I was found behind the building near the gates."

I looked away from him and the item resting in his hand. All of them noticed my reaction, and Nadine placed a hand on my arm.

"Miley? Does this mean anything to you?"

_'Yes_!' My mind screamed.

"No." My mouth lied.

Jenkins was holding a plastic baggy. Inside the plastic baggy was a very jagged piece of blue glass. The glass reflected the light beautifully, and the color was captivating. Except for the dry blood that stained the tips of the broken glass. I blinked profusely, and tried to not to think about what that piece of coffee mug symbolized.

She looked at me closely.

"You know this object, don't you?"

I shook my head violently. Lie, lie, lie. I didn't know why I was lying, but I knew I had to.

Anderson turned to Marlene.

"Do you know this object?"

We all waited. After a moment, she croaked, "No."

The doctor grabbed the baggy and said, "I'll go ask Macy."

He disappeared from the room.

My hands were shaking. I clasped them together to try and stop them. Nadine noticed.

"Miley, I think I'd like to talk to you." Her tone was strange, almost angry, "After I talk with Marlene and Macy, I need to talk to you privately. Is there an area we can meet?"

In a shaky voice, I replied.

"Yes. My office."

She nodded.

"Can you tell me where that is located?"

I nodded, "It's on the main floor. Go to the lobby, turn right and walk down that little hallway. It's the doors at the end of it."

I stood up, and she grabbed a tape recorder out of her bag. I quietly exited the room.

The blinding light of the waiting room made me squint. I was, again, ambushed by parents. Something about my appearance made them twice as frightened.

"Please..." They begged.

I eyed the mothers, feeling their pain.

"Your daughter is fine. Please, just relax. We have the best doctor in Malibu tending to them. You'll be able to see them soon."

I didn't wait for a reaction. I hurriedly pushed through the crowd, and left the infirmary.

The dim light of the hallway messed with my eyes even more. I blindly walked quietly down the hallway. All I could hear was the sound of my feet scuffing against the floor.

Luke having teenage boys working for him wasn't new to me. Having gotten injured by one of them long ago, I knew this for a fact. In fact, some of the problems with having children has to be credited to that teenage boy. The bruising I receive to my abdomen definitely didn't help anything.

I think it was the timing that made it so unbelievable to me. I guess I figured that since I was already going through so much stuff right now, that nothing else could happen to me. This was exceedingly stupid, seeing as though I was a breathing example of how pain wasn't fairly dispensed among people.

I slowly inched down the stairs. They were as dark as before, but not as scary. I don't know why that was, because they should have been even more scary then before. No one was around, and there was a Luke gang running around. However, I couldn't find enough emotion inside me to be scared.

The lobby was deathly quiet. The buzz of the silence evaded my head and reverberated in my ears. My steps were light; my heart heavy.

After what seemed like a while, I was opening the door to my office. Emily and Nurse LeAnn had probably left long ago for the panic room. They left in such a rush that the TV was left on.

My office felt comforting. I knew this place very well, and it was normal. I shut the door behind me.

The light was on. The walls were a deep blue, and my desk was beautiful, wooden, and mahogany. I kicked off my shoes, and padded across the carpeted floor to the TV. I pressed the off button, and the room fell silent.

I walked behind my desk, and sank into my chair. The soft, black leather hugged me. I was exhausted.

The light on my phone was blinking beside messages. My computer was off, and all the pictures were in place. I leaned forward a bit in my chair and pressed the messages button.

I heard nothing at first, except for some static. Just as I was about to erase it, a small noise made my hand stop midair.

It was a voice. My hand quivered in the air. It was my voice.

"_I'll do it," _

My cry of terror was drowned out by the sound of my heart beating in my ears. My voice in the recording was shaky, and terrified. When I spoke those words, I imagined myself speaking them threateningly, and strongly. However, they sounded so weak and sad now.

The recording continued.

"_I know." _

There was a short pause.

"_By the way, Miley,"_

It stopped.

The feelings hearing his voice again brought were borderline terrifying. I was shaking severely, and my teeth were clashing against each other making my whole skull vibrate. I released large, choppy sobs as I tried to calm my body.

My throat itched as bile started climbing up for release. I weakly pushed my chair away from my desk, and tried to run out of the office. But my knees were as shaky as my arms, and couldn't sustain my weight. Right before I threw up, I grasped the edge of the trashcan beside my desk and caught the stream in that.

Tears mixed with vomit as I held my quaking body over the trashcan. I threw up the little bit of food that was in my stomach, and then dryly heaved for a few more minutes as my stomach kept trying to throw something up that wasn't present. After my body stopped this, I collapsed on the carpet. My breathing came out in short gasps for a while as I laid there.

Eventually, I gained my proper breathing pattern back. I was still shaking though.

Who would do this to me? Or more importantly, _how_? How would they get audio of that moment so many years ago? I was alone in the house with him. There was no one else there. Or was there?

I just couldn't for the life of me understand why people hated me so much. They don't even know who I am, so why do they insist on hurting me? Jealousy? Just pure hatred?

I didn't know why. All I knew was that I was sick of it. As if I didn't have enough stuff going on without them reminding me of the things I was on my way to forget.

But out of all the things I didn't know, I knew one thing. No one was allowed to know about this. Jake especially.

With that thought in mind, I grabbed my desk for support and pulled myself up. I eased back into my chair, and erased the message.

I was forgetting. They had no right to bring it back. If I show anyone this, the police will get involved. And it will be as if it has just happened again. It's _over_.

Now I just need them to let it be.

I sat still for a few moments, and tried to get a hold of myself. It's just people messing with me. I don't want to give them the satisfaction of knowing what it did to me. I will not make them happy.

To waste time and try to calm myself, I turned my computer on and logged on. Once Windows _finally _pulled up all the way, I opened up my email. I had fifty seven unread messages, and I had just checked it yesterday night. I sighed and scanned the senders with my eyes. Most were about applications for a place here, some were personal emails, and there were a few concerning my record deal.

Deciding that Jake might freak if he woke up and I was mysteriously gone, I decided to send him an email. I would have called him, but I wasn't so sure my voice was steady enough to do that. I typed out a quick email explaining that there was some "trouble" at work, I had to go check it out, I loved him, and then sent it. I decided simply stating that there was "trouble" was the easiest way to go. That way I wasn't lying to him, and he didn't have to spaz out.

After that, I read an email from Lilly that was funny enough to calm my nerves a bit. Soon, my crying had ceased altogether.

I pulled myself together just in time it seemed. For the moment I stopped crying, a knock resounded around my office.

I was still shaking, and didn't want to risk the detective seeing that.

"Come in." I said evenly. I placed my shaking hands underneath my desk and tightened all my muscles to try and impede the shaking. It worked a little bit.

Detective Nadine entered silently. Her face was ashen, and she clutched her tape recorder tightly. I'd seen that expression multiple times in my job. I concluded that she must be new to this area of work.

She sat down in the seat adjacent to my desk. We were silent for a few moments, then she started talking.

"I'm going to be entirely honest. Things aren't looking so good for you right about now."

I blinked in confusion.

"I'm sorry?" I politely asked.

She just shook her head in what might have been disbelief or pity, and looked away from me.

"You better have a pretty good damn alibi, Mrs. Ryan. Because as of this moment, your looking very suspicious."

This shocked me more than just about anything else. Cold dread seeped into the pit of my stomach.

"I beg your pardon?" I choked out.

She folded her hands and looked back over at me.

"You heard me."

I leaned forward and placed my elbows on my desk. I rested my cupped hands on my neck and leaned forward even more.

"You think _I _did this?" My voice was dripping with disbelief and hurt.

She laughed hollowly.

"Think about it, dear. No one but you could have possibly known where on your body those scars are, or where all the other cuts used to be. It's impossible to think anyone else could have possibly known. Besides, it's a rather clever way to get yourself attention. Pretend someone else is out to make you a victim."

Her words burned me.

I pointed a finger at her, "This is _ridiculous. _Why would I hurt those girls? And for your information, I'm perfectly content staying out of the limelight. It's everyone else that isn't."

She just shook her head again.

"So, where were you tonight between the hours of ten P.M. and three A.M.?"

She was asking me to account for 6 hours? Goodness. I wracked my brains, and was mildly surprised to realize I actually _did _know where I had been. I remember glancing at the clock around ten o'clock.

"I was getting ready for bed at ten o'clock." I replied.

She pulled a notebook out and quickly scribbled something down.

"What were you doing after that?"

I thought.

"Um…between then and about…ten thirty I was helping my husband bandage up his foot."

This sparked her interest.

"What happened to his foot?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes in annoyance.

"He stepped on a razor blade and it sliced his foot open. I dealt with that, and we spent some time together until about…eleven…and then I cleaned up the blood in the bathroom until midnight. Then, I went to sleep. I woke up at three in the morning when Melanie Smith called me about a "fight" happening here."

She scribbled all this down, then turned to me.

"Is there someone that can verify this?"

I _did _roll my eyes this time.

"Jake, Emily, and Melanie can."

She wrote something down again and then looked back up at me.

"Emily?"

I sighed.

"Emily is my best friend's daughter. She is friends with my son and stayed over at my house last night, and she was up when I was about to come here. She came with me. She was also in the living room all night, so she would have seen me if I tried to leave."

The detective seemed to see she had nothing on me anymore.

"Okay then," She said, "I guess you didn't do it."

"Of course not." I replied.

She set down her notebook and picked up the tape recorder.

"Now," She started, "I'm going to need to hear your story of what happened, and how you go your scars."

My stomach started jolting violently again, and for a moment I was afraid I was going to be sick for the second time.

"I've already given that story to the press," I argued, "you can just go open a magazine and find it."

She shook her head, "We need a formal statement from you. We can't use a statement you made to the _press_." She pronounced press as if it was a dirty word.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"It was so long ago…I probably don't even remember." I lied. Of course I remembered. That would be the one thing I'd never forget.

She sighed in impatience.

"I'm sure you remember it very well, Mrs. Ryan. Let's hear it. Please. The sooner we see how similar your stories are, the sooner we can find the people who did this."

It was catching the stupid boys that made me tell her. I wanted them caught. So I found myself remembering, and retelling.

"I had just gotten back from Italy. Jake was still there, working on a movie. I was going home to visit my family. That night, I went to my room. The window was open…I…I liked it open before. My dad knew I did…he did it so I'd feel more at home."

I stared blankly at the wall, seeing things she never could imagine.

"I was scared. You can imagine how frightening that would be…so I went to my closet to call Jake. It's sound proof, for practicing purposes. I went in there, and called him. We didn't talk very long before someone pulled my phone out of my hand…it was Lukas Oken. I…um…"

I paused. This part was a little blurry to me. I closed my eyes, and let myself slip back into that time. I felt the fear, and I felt the feeling of his cold hands on me…

I opened my eyes back up.

I continued, "He slapped a hand over my mouth. And he said, 'wow look at you, mommy of the year' and he touched my stomach…I got angry and I said 'don't touch me'…and he said…"

I told the story painfully, surprised at the clarity I could remember it with. When I was done, she stopped the tape recorder.

A heavy veil of silence fell over us.

"There are only four differences between the stories." She murmured. I waited.

She held up a finger, "One, the setting. This happened to these girls when they were in the restroom. Two, the person who saved you. Your brother saved you, and a girl named Mary saved Marlene and Macy. Three, the phone call, and four, the woman."

Mary was the one who saw it! That was why she wanted to talk to me! Her third thing confused me.

"Woman?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Yes. There was a woman in the room with Marlene and Macy…"

She dug through her bag and pulled out two other tape recorders. She played them, and fast forward them for a few minutes. Then, she pushed play.

Marlene's shaky voice came through the speakers.

"_And he j-jerked my jeans…the fell hallway down my legs…and then…a woman spoke from somewhere."_ She sobbed.

I heard Detective Nadine's voice next, _"And what did the woman say?_"

Marlene sniffed, _"She recited something. I think it might have b-been a p-poem…I'm not s-sure. I think Macy knew the p-poem…she _

_mouthed the words along with the woman."_

Detective Nadine stopped that tape recorder and started the next one. This time Macy's voice filled the room.

"_H-he had my jeans halfway down my l-legs when a woman suddenly said something. Marlene and I didn't even know there was a woman there…but she started r-reciting a stanza from a poem. I knew the poem." _

"_And what was the poem?" _

"_It was a stanza from the poem "My Unborn Child" by Marigrace Iodice. It's a sad poem…I only know it because when my mother lost a child she recited the poem daily. But this woman…she didn't recite it as if she was sad. She recited it with a mocking tone…as if it held a greater meaning that was going to hurt an enemy in the long run…but it comforted me. I recited it, and it helped me fight my fear. It helped." _

"_If I print out this poem, could you circle the part she recited?" _

"_I could tell you right now." _

"_Okay." _

"_Never got to hold your hand, I never got to sing you a lullaby. I will never come to understand, why murderers run free and innocent souls die. I'll always have my suspicions, why God took you from me…all these unanswered questions that would burn inside of me."_

Detective Nadine stopped the tape and stared at me.

"Does that poem mean anything to you?"

_Yes_! My mind screamed, _it means everything to me!_

"No." I lied.

She leaned toward me.

"Miley, you may have a good alibi. But something isn't right with you. You're hiding things, and I can tell. All I have to say is that lying to a detective isn't the best thing to do. If there is something you need to tell me, you better do it now."

I was going to sick again.

She waited for me to say something. I sniffed and fulfilled her wishes.

"I need to call my husband."

Her face fell in disappointment, but I didn't care.

The cards hadn't been shuffled; they'd been stacked on top of each other. I thought the pain of what Luke had done was getting tossed aside by the pain of losing my children….but it was just all piling up together.

I wished I had refused to continue playing this unfair card game.


	11. Conquer

**A/n: **sorry it took so long...once again. Thank you all for the reviews!! this chapter may be inappropriate for some, so read with caution. I would appreciate your input!

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**"Love conquers all, but if love doesn't do it, try hard work." -- Unknown. **

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Emily and I walked tiredly into the house.

All the lights were still out, and the rising sun beamed rays of sunshine through the windows and into the room.

I set down my keys on the table, and kicked my shoes of my painful feet. Emily was dragging her feet tiredly to the armchair in the corner.

I yawned, and then turned to Emily. She was settling down in the chair, pulling a blanket over her.

"Emily?" I asked softly. She reopened her eyes to look at me.

"Yes?" She asked.

I found myself awkwardly running a hand through my hair.

"Could you…um…well, I would just prefer for this to be kept between us...at least until tonight." I said.

She nodded sleepily.

"Of course. I won't tell anyone until you do."

I let out a breath of relief.

"Thank you, Emily. Goodnight."

She mumbled incoherently. As a habit, I started up the stairs to check on Cole. My bare feet made no sound as I shuffled up the staircase with legs of lead.

Cole's bedroom door was open, which meant he was asleep. His door was closed all hours of the day, and only opened when he was going to bed.

I leaned against the door frame for a moment. The blinds of the window were open, and the rays of sunlight bathed everything with a yellow hue. I could see lint particles floating around in the air, and the sun was so warm on my skin. I hadn't even realized I was cold until I felt the warmth.

As quietly as possible, I entered the room. I noticed he had cleaned up a lot—the only thing covering the hardwood floors were stacks of sketch books, balled up paper that had overflowed out of the trash can in the corner, and a few articles of clothing.

I had an urge to go pick up the overflowing paper and throw it away properly, but I didn't want to make him angry. This was his room, and I supposed he must not mind it like that if he hadn't moved it yet.

My legs carried me across the room. His bed was on a small platform against the south wall of the room. I traveled over there, and sat down on the edge of the platform.

He looked so peaceful in sleep. It was something he must have received from Jake—sleep wasn't necessarily peaceful for me. He looked vulnerable and young. But at the same time, he looked so old.

With the drop of my stomach, I realized he really _did _look older. It wasn't just something only noticed in sleep. His face was becoming more defined, and he looked much more grown up.

Grown up?

I found that hard to believe. It wasn't that long ago that he was a newborn baby…was it? It didn't feel like that long at all. As I studied his face, I tried to find some of the little boy quality he used to possess in his face. I couldn't.

I slumped against the bed frame. I felt emotionally worn out, and older than I ever had before. I guess it's easier to see age in someone else than it is to seen it in yourself. I wanted to reach up there and wake up and tell him I was sorry. I wanted to explain to him why it was so _hard_. I wanted to apologize for making his life just as hard. But most importantly, I wanted to tell him how much I loved him. Because I didn't think he knew. I wanted to tell him what a miracle he was to me, and how wonderfully he had transformed my life. I wanted to thank him for letting me experience the beautiful feeling motherhood is.

But I couldn't get my hand, nor voice to raise enough. And that was what ultimately made this situation all the worse. Because I didn't know how to piece back together what I had broken. I feared what I had broken was unfixable.

I knew Jake was on better terms with Cole then I was. Why that was, I wasn't sure. Maybe boys really _do _speak a different language then girls, and Jake knew the right thing to say and how to say it. More importantly, he said _something_.

I couldn't really stop myself from crying then. I knew I was becoming a human waterfall lately, but it was all I knew to do. Everything just kept adding up together. What would be next? My relationship with my son is pretty much in shambles, there may or may not be someone out to destroy the only sanity I have left, Jake is nearing the ending point, and I am sick of it all.

They say when you hit rock bottom the only place you can go from there is up. But surely getting back up would be tedious, painful work. And I'm not sure if I can climb that mountain again. My whole life has been a never ending chain of mountains and valleys. Up, down, up, down, up, down…

Where was I going to be when it ended? Mountain or valley?

"Mom?"

Cole's sleepy voice startled me. I quickly wiped at my eyes and jumped up from the platform. Cole was looking me through half open, confused eyes. His hair was everywhere, and he was blinking against the sun that was coming through the blinds. I also noticed his face looked a little pale. I hoped he wasn't coming down with something.

"I-I was just..." my eyes flickered to the alarm clock, "coming to g-get you up for school."

He sighed, and ran a hand over his face. Luckily, my timing had been good and it was seven fifteen A.M. He usually woke up at seven twenty.

I decided I needed to do something to get myself under control, so I stood up and walked over to his hamper. I picked up some of the clothes on the floor surrounding it and threw them on top, and lifted the hamper up into my tired, sore arms.

He paused.

"Mom? Are...you okay? Are you...crying?" His voice was soft, and held a hint of concern. This made my heart swell happily. At least he still cared somewhat about me. I didn't deserve it. I was a terrible person.

I turned back around, my arms full with the clothes basket.

As I looked at my son, I couldn't help but get a little more choked up. It was the guilt that was yanking at my heart.

"I'm fine, Cole. I just...I'm fine. Are you feeling okay this morning? You look a little pale."

He had the same difficulty talking as I did. Guilt made it hard for me; I wonder what made it hard for him.

"Yeah, I feel fin…well…no. Not really."

The fact that he was so hesitant to tell me he didn't feel well made me sad. I had a hunch as to why, though. I was betting that he didn't want me to know he actually needed me for anything. He probably wanted to be considered as someone who didn't need anyone.

But didn't he need me at all? I needed him.

I set the basket down on his dresser, and surprised even myself with the amount of concern I spoke with.

"What's hurting you?" I asked.

"I have a headache, and my throat hurts."

Immediately, I fell into the role of worried mother. I walked over to his bed and sat down on the edge. The worry overcame the guilt for a moment. It felt nice to be guilt-free.

I rested my hand on his forehead. I didn't think it felt that warm, but my hands were always cold these days.

"You don't feel feverish." I stated as I pulled my hand back. He shrugged, and lay back down against his pillow.

"I feel really bad. I don't know if I'll be able to make it through a whole day of school." He muttered.

I smoothed his blanket while I tried to think of how many school days he had missed already. It was only about two.

"Alright, if you're sure. Emily said she didn't feel well earlier. I bet it's just something going around."

He nodded, and I stood up.

"If you need anything I'll be downstairs, okay?"

"Yes." He replied.

I walked over to the dresser, picked the hamper back up, and exited his room.

I felt a little better walking down the stairs. Every time I was able to do something for him it lessened the oppressed guilt, and it made me happy to see him happy.

Emily was sound asleep in the chair. I longed to sleep too, but I knew I had too much to do. I set the hamper down in the laundry room. I would probably need to go back to work later today. I had just managed to get everyone settled down enough to leave for a little while, and they had been able to leave the panic room. The police completely searched the area and found no one. But even though they seemed certain it was okay, they still had twice the amount of guards stationed about. They made an officer walk me and Emily to the car. The officer in general was really dull. He didn't say one word to us the entire walk until we were by my car. And even when he said something, it wasn't something I'd expect him to say. I would have expected him to say goodbye or be safe or something, but instead he said: "the bottom level of the parking deck is the safest." And with that statement, he walked off.

I opened the bedroom door. It was a little less light in my and Jake's room because the blinds were shut. Jake appeared to still be sleeping, so I took extra caution to be quiet.

I wanted to go curl up in the bed and sleep, but I couldn't. So I decided to do the very next appealing thing—shower. I entered the bathroom.

The smell of bleach still lingered. I walked to the linen closet and pulled out two towels and a washcloth. I hung them neatly on the towel rack. I methodically undressed, humming to myself as I did. I carefully undid the latch on my necklace and placed it on the bureau. Then I gently took my hair down and brushed through it.

I shivered as the air conditioner clicked on, and blew cool air into the bathroom. The cold tiles against my bare feet and the cool air against my cool skin combined to make me freezing. I hurried over to the shower, opened the blurry glass door, and quickly shoved the faucet handle up. The roar of the water filled my ears as it thundered against the shower walls. I adjusted it the temperature and stepped into the shower.

The hot water hit me forcefully, and I gasped for a moment as my body tried to adjust to the major temperature change. I stood underneath the steaming shower head for a while, just letting the water warm me up. After I was sufficiently warmed up, I searched the various shelves on the shower for the shower gel I wanted. We had so many shelves because of Jake. He didn't _just _have tons of toothpaste. He also had a lot of shampoo, conditioner, and soap. So much that I sometimes wondered why I was the girl and he was the boy. Well, I mean I knew _why _I was the girl and he was the boy, but it just seemed to me that his bathroom product habits were rare among men.

Once I located the Fresh Pineapple Bath and Body Works shower gel I wanted, I pushed back the glass shower door and grabbed the washcloth off the towel rack. I wet the washcloth underneath the spray and squirted a generous amount on the washcloth. The fresh aroma filled the bathroom and my head. I washed myself slowly, mainly just because I didn't the energy to try and take a quick shower. The warmness of the shower was making me even sleepier, and I found myself yawning frequently.

After I finished washing myself, I dropped my washcloth, rinsed, and reached for my face wash. I squirted a small amount in my hands and scrubbed my face. My sleepiness must have hindered my washing quality, because my fingers slipped and I got some of the scrub into my eye.

I jerked my hand away from my face as they intense burning started. I squeezed my eyes together tightly, hoping to stop the pain for a minute. I tried to open the shower door so I could grab a towel to wipe my eyes off with, but I was having trouble locating the handle. When my hands came in contact with it, I yanked it back enough to stick my head and arm out. The cool air of lesser humidity wafted over me as I reached blindly for the towels. The burning was very bad at this point.

"Ow," I groaned as my hand finally touched the towel. I quickly wiped my eyes with the material. Once I felt most was out of it, I carefully opened my eyes.

When I did, I was surprised to see Jake looking at me in amusement, holding a towel in his hand. He smiled at me.

I frowned.

"You really shouldn't scare someone like that."

I let go of the towel, and he hung it back on the towel rack.

"I just saved you from possible blindness, and you're yelling at me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

I placed a hand on my chest.

"My heart is trying to bust out of my chest you scared me so much."

He smiled cheekily.

"No, that's just because I'm near you."

I rolled my eyes.

He feigned a hurt look.

"Well…I can see I'm not wanted here. So I'm going to go to work or something…"

He turned to walk away, looking entirely pathetic.

"No!" I cried after him, "Don't go!"

My exaggerated cry made him turn back around and walk back over to where I was. And then, before I had actually registered what was happening he was standing beside me in the shower. With his boxers on.

He smiled at me again, and I couldn't help but notice how sexy he looked with the water cascading down his body. Of course, I was sure he would look even better _without _the black boxers on.

"You dolt!" I yelled playfully over the roar of the shower, "Take those boxers off right this moment, sir!"

His wet arms wrapped around my wet body and pulled me to him. The water pounded into the back of my head and my back. It splashed into Jake's neck and face. He leaned his face down to mine.

"Why, ma'am," he mumbled against my lips, "are you asking me to become naked?"

His lips moved from mine and he kissed along my jaw bone.

"Yes sir, I am. It's only fair after all, seeing as though I am." I mumbled back. The feel of his lips on my skin mixed with the feel of the warm shower water between us made it hard to concentrate. He was distracting me from being able to form witty comebacks.

His lips paused near my right ear.

"Guess what, beautiful? Life isn't always fair." He whispered.

He continued kissing softly down my neck. Standing up straight was becoming problematic, much less talking. However, I gave myself longer to reply this time so I could have a good comeback.

I cradled his face in my hands and brought it up to my level. I leaned forward and put on the most innocent facial expression I owned.

"You're right. Life isn't fair. That's why we all have to work so hard for what we want."

I released his face from my grip. He took me back in his arms, and I wrapped mine around his waist. We stood there for a moment, before he leaned down and pushed back my wet hair.

"I want you. How hard do I have to work?" He whispered into my ear.

Chills racked down my spine. I pulled back to look at him. He looked beautiful with his wet hair framing his face.

A slow smirk spread over my face.

"First, yes I'm _quite_ aware that you want me. And second, you only have to work as hard as you want to."

I smiled sweetly.

He laughed loudly, and it echoed around the shower over the roar of the water. He leaned down to my face and kissed me deeply. My heart rate accelerated. I kissed him back with vigor, gripping his body to mine. He pulled away.

I frowned.

"Hmm. In that case…"

His fingers gripped the waste band of those stupid black boxers. My blood pressure sky-rocketed. He pulled them down about three centimeters _maximum _and then turned to crash his lips against mine again, laughing all the while.

I gently pushed him away. I playfully glared at him. He just smiled back with that gorgeous smile of his.

I leaned back into his chest.

"Stop _teasing _me," I groaned against his wet skin, "you little hussy."

He gently pulled me back and looked at me with an amused expression.

"Did you just call me a _hussy_?" He asked.

"I did. Whatcha gonna do about it? _Pretend _to do something?" I pouted.

He smiled at me in what I was supposed to take as a dangerous way. He wished he was bad so much.

He walked toward me, and I took a step back. Unfortunately, the shower was really only made for one really obese person, so I had no area to back up to. My back came in contact with the cool shower wall, and I was behind the shower head so I was getting kind of cold without the warm spray of water.

Jake was obviously aiming to trap me against the shower wall, but I beat him to the chase. I grabbed him and pulled him close to me before pressing my lips against his. He responded without an ounce of bitterness over losing.

We kissed passionately for what seemed like a very long time, and it was possibly twenty minutes later that I realized the article of clothing I kept stepping on was _not_ my washcloth.

Realizing I'd gotten my way in our pretend argument, I broke the kiss to gloat. However, he looked so beautiful and hot standing there that my witty comment was washed down the drain. I instead threw my arms around him and pressed myself to him. He responded by decorating my shoulders with kisses. When his lips traveled on to my chest, I finally was able to form two words a sound. That's a major accomplishment.

"Mmm," I whispered happily, "I win."

I looked up at him, and the deep arousal in his eyes made me think he was going to kiss me at the very _least_, but instead he started laughing again.

I was getting kind of annoyed now. I wasn't making a funny.

"You know, you're kinda ruining the mood, _sir_." I murmured unpleasantly. He just kissed me again. He pulled away and laughed again.

"_What_?"

"I keep remembering that article where they named you the most innocent woman in Hollywood, and I'm trying to figure out where they got that one from."

He kissed me again. I pulled away this time.

"I…"—He kissed me again—"am…"—another kiss—"the most…"—I was running out of oxygen at this point. I finally pulled away long enough to finish my sentence.

"I _am _the most innocent woman in Hollywood," I said stubbornly, "now get your sexy self back over here and let me show you how innocent I am."

I leaned in to kiss him, but he stopped me.

"Wait. I don't want you to show me how _innocent _you are. You'll probably have us read the Bible or something. I want to see how naughty you are."

I rolled my eyes.

"You already have. Besides, you have no room to talk about the denotation of words. We're working with the connotation here, baby. If you can't stand the heat, get out of the shower."

He pulled me back over to him. His lips softly lavished across my chest, making my heart beat irregularly. Once he had reduced my breathing pattern to near hyperventilation, he pulled away.

"You have no room to talk about denotations. You called me a hussy. A hussy is defined as a _woman _who is impure."

"You're definitely not a woman," I agreed.

"And you definitely are."

"Well good…now that we've established our genders, albeit a little late in the relationship I'd have to say seeing as though we've been married for over ten years, can we proceed?"

He went back to kissing me, "I always knew your gender."

"That's a relief. I'll finally be able to sleep at night." I joked.

He gently took my shoulders and turned us around so my back was against the opposite shower wall and he was in front of me. He leaned close to me.

"You'll only sleep if I'll let you…" His lips brushed against my ear. I shivered, and not just because the water was getting a little cold.

I made a vague gesture at the faucet.

"Can you make it a little hotter?"

A wicked grin covered his face as he pulled me precariously close to him.

"Hotter, eh?"

Hot blood pounded through my head as I tried to find my good sense. It was extremely hard to imagine even having_ ever_ had good sense when he was this close to me. I groaned and hit his arm lightly.

"You know what I meant."

Once the water temperature was adjusted, things picked up again. Interesting foreplay always leads to great sex. Well, everything usually led to great sex…but still.

Thoughts of anything scary had left my mind long ago, and now all I cared about was how much I loved Jake and vice versa. And when the day ended and it all came down to it, love _was_ everything. Either your day ended with love, or without it. However, both choices form your future. Love _is_ everything, and it always will be. Love is the strongest force of nature…it's the most powerful pull of desire and addiction…it's the main factor in fate…it's the greatest act of kindness one can give another…it's the most pungent word in all the worldly language…it's the most complex, sporadically methodical thing in the universe.

And it's just a _feeling. _

Hatred would never win. Because as long as there has been hatred, there has been love first. Love _created _hatred and bitterness. If it brought it into our world, it can take it right back out.

* * *

**Cole's POV**

A soft voice jerked me awake. I felt the weight on the bed shift momentarily before everything was still again.

I opened my eyes slowly. I was slightly bothered by the fact this was the second time I'd been awaken unnecessarily.

I mumbled in annoyance. I sat up. Emily was sitting at the bottom of my bed. I narrowed my eyes in what I hoped looked like annoyance. As much as I hated being woken up, I did have to say she looked beautiful sitting on my bed…

I internally yelled at myself, and tried to think other thoughts. Thoughts like…Emily is my friend. Emily is my friend. Emily is my friend.

"I'm sorry for waking you." She apologized.

I grunted, determined to not let her know how much I didn't mind her presence. I didn't need her, I didn't need anyone. I especially didn't need her though. She would just confuse my life. All women are trouble. They are beautiful, sweet smelling, soft, and loving…until they trick you. Once you fall for their little acts, you're fucked. That's all there is to it. And once they fuck you over, you're done for. Girls can heal from what men do them pretty fast, but we take the beat to our pride. Pride takes a lot longer to heal then stupid feelings. I bet they get on internet chats and talk about how to prove their dominance by hurting us.

"It's just…well…I heard something today. And I…wanted to ask you about it."

As soon as though words came out of her pretty mouth, I felt icy sweat break out on my forehead. I resisted the urge to scream out my innocence, because I knew that would only prove the opposite.

"Shoot." I muttered.

She fiddled with her small hands and bit her lip in a very appeali—…in a very womanly way. I waited as patiently as I could while she gathered her words. While she did, my thoughts wandered. Her curls looked very good tousled around like that…

"Do you know my best friend, Lila Brinkerhoff?"

Oh God. This is exactly what I mean about women. When you tell them to keep a damn secret, the first thing they do is run off and tell their little girlfriends what you told them not to! Then they gossip like idiots and ruin your already shitty life. None of them have good sense.

Of course Lila would tell Emily about what happened. Girls always run screaming to their "bff"s when they first hit someone. They gossip and compare notes with each other, and then they probably switch boyfriends or something.

Or maybe not. That would mean Emily would be with me…

I could have handled that. I should have seen it coming. Beautiful, worldly Lila was nothing but a one-way express to screwville for a guy like me who lets himself start to really like someone. Lila with her long, beautiful, soft hair and her melodic voice…

Emily's face was strained.

"Do you know Lila?" She demanded.

I meant to lie, but I couldn't. I wasn't a woman.

"Yes."

"How do you know her, Cole? How do you know her?" Her tone was hitting a tone of hysteria.

I think she knew what the answer was. She knew. She was just playing around with my mind.

"I…we…dated some." I murmured.

There was a long silence. I meant to look up at Emily's face, to see what she was feeling, but I couldn't make myself.

"You're that baby's father, aren't you?"

Her whisper was so quiet, but so loud at the same time. It echoed around my head and into my bones. My stomach fell to my toes.

"There is _no _baby." I spat.

She angrily moved closer to me. Her voice was low, her eyes menacing.

"Not anymore, Cole. Not anymore. Why is that? Was it your idea, huh? Your idea to kill your own child—"

Her words slapped me across my face. I clenched my fists and jaw in anger.

"It was not my child. It was just a bunch of stupid _cells. _Don't go around ever saying that shit _ever _again!" I thundered.

I expected fragile little Emily to back off in fear, but my exclamation only seemed to fuel her anger.

"Yea, Cole? A bunch of cells? Were you just a bunch of cells fourteen years ago, to be done away with? Do you think it would have mattered much if Miley decided to do away with you? Huh?!"

At the mention of my mother, my anger skyrocketed. I pushed myself out of the bed and angrily walked to my door.

"_Get out_." I growled.

She ignored me.

"Jesus, Cole! Just…_ugh_! I don't understand how you could do this! Especially considering all your mother and father have been through!"

I smashed my fist into the wall. It stung and did nothing for my anger.

"_Don't_ bring my mother or father into this!" I screamed.

She jumped up, placing herself in front of me. We were no longer the same people.

"I'll bring them where I want to! And I'll tell you something right now, Caden Cole Ryan. You're the most _selfish _person I have ever met. With what you say you've been through, you sure don't seem to care very much about your own kid. Hypocrite, much? Not only did you kill your own child, but you ruined Lila's life, and I can't wait to see how Miley and Jake take this! I just can't _wait_!!" Her laugh was bitter, and furious. Thought she was finished, but she continued.

"And not only that, but what about our friendship? The one you've just recently decided is important to withhold. My father is dating Lila's mother, Cole. Which means when Lila tells Miss Claire she's going to tell my father what you and Lila have done! And I'll never be allowed to ever talk to you again!"

There were so many things I had wanted to scream. The mains one being that it had been a mutual decision between me and Lila—I hadn't forced her! She said it would simple and no one would have to know. She said that because California didn't have a parental consent law, we could forget it ever happened. But then she just goes and blabs to Emily. Just like a girl.

But all these objections got caught in my throat. The idea that Oliver wouldn't let Emily ever see me again bothered me much more than I would ever even consider letting on.

"I made a mistake, and I fixed it. Now I have to deal with the leftover consequences." I said.

She swung her hair angrily over her shoulder.

She walked up to me, and raised her hand. I expected her to slap me. With tears in her eyes, she lowered her hand and glared at me through heartbroken eyes.

"You didn't fix anything, Cole. You just complicated things. You're a coward, you really are. And I…" her voice broke, "I...thought you were different. I thought you were having a turnaround. I guess I was wrong."

She ducked her head and stormed past me.

Yes, she was wrong. Because this was anything but a turnaround. I walked back to my bed and sat down. And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to feel a little bad. Guilt wasn't a customary feeling for me. I so rarely felt guilty, and even when I did it never bothered me much. But this guilt did bother me. What if Emily was right? What if that really had been a baby…a child? What if I murdered my own child? What if I made a fixable mistake an unfixable one?

And I suddenly wanted to talk to my mother, of all people. As much as I felt neglected…I…still loved her. Of course I did, she was my mother. And I felt that right then, she really could have helped me. She probably would have known what to say. She seemed to be perfect that way.

But she didn't need me at all. I just wish she knew how much I needed her.

I felt like such a stupid, weak person as my eyes felt hot with oncoming tears. I blinked them angrily away. I wasn't going to cry. I never cried.

In my anger, I slammed my door shut with all the force I had. The walls shook, and the loud sound hurt my eardrums.

Love was nothing. It will always be nothing. It is something invented by an evil force to make people suffer. It makes you feel so good that you just have to look for some more, like heroin. But once you do, you overdose and die. It was so evilly powerful that it controlled everything. It was the evil dictator Hitler of all feelings. Once you committed yourself to love, you were giving up yourself. Love was the greatest force of nature, a tornado. And when you admit love into your life, you are standing in a shed full of axes as an F-6 tornado comes toward you. You can't befriend a tornado, and humans are not supposed to take part in something so strong.

It was just a stupid _feeling. _

They say love conquers evil. Bull shit. Love can't conquer what is already is. Evil created love to hurt people. How can love kill what it is? It can't. Love is just a prettily dressed up Evil. It may fool idiots into indulging all their happiness into it, but I wasn't an idiot. Evil brought love into the world as easily as it can take me out.


	12. Prerogative

**A/n: **thank you all for the reviews! I've got 3 more days of school left, so my updates should be getting faster (I hope!). Thanks for bearing with this series/story and taking the time to review! Happy readings XD

* * *

"**Children are natural mimics who act like their parents despite every effort to teach them good manners." -- Unknown**

* * *

COLE'S POV:

Sometime after Emily left, I fell asleep. I must have slept longer then I thought, because when I woke up the clock told me it was two in the afternoon.

I groaned and rolled over. I was thinking about just sleeping until I died. It would have been easy. No one would have even cared if I just lay here and died. I could just curl up into a comfortable ball and sit. Just sit.

But the thought of never being able to drive was what eventually drove me out of bed. And maybe the thought of not being able to see some select individuals helped the cause also. Maybe.

I pushed back my blankets. The cold air hit me with full force and I shivered. I placed my feet on the cold, hardwood floor and walked to my dresser. I got dressed quickly, not really paying attention to what I put on. I ended up in a blue polo and a pair of jeans. After I was dressed, I ran a brush through my hair quickly.

I opened my bedroom door and started to make my way downstairs. On second thought, I turned around. I traveled in the opposite direction, to Emily's room.

I passed a lot of rooms before finding hers. I pressed my ear against the wood. The soft humming of the air conditioner was the only sound that filled my ear. I grasped the doorknob in my hand. I wanted to turn it and see her. I wanted to apologize to her. But the more stubborn, prideful part of me couldn't help but feel that maybe I didn't have anything to apologize for. This wasn't her decision…it had nothing to do with her! It wouldn't even affect her life! And what's done is done. It's over. Why can't she let it be over?

I dropped my hand from the doorknob. I turned around and walked back toward downstairs. The house was eerily quiet for two in the afternoon. Usually mom and dad were awake already and talking or listening to the radio or something. Actually, we usually had visitors by now!

I entered the hallway that the staircase ran into and walked down it to the kitchen.

The bright blue kitchen was so light that it made me squint. The windows along the wall were all open, and the bright California sun was bleeding into the room.

Squinting, I walked into the bright kitchen. I was surprised to see my dad sitting at the kitchen table, idly looking through a tabloid. I hadn't expected anyone to be awake, seeing as though it was very quiet.

He looked up when I entered.

"Good morning, Cole." He said. I waved lazily in his direction. My stomach growled, reminding me that I was very hungry. I frowned as I realized mom wasn't awake yet; therefore, I had no food to eat.

I drifted in a lost manner between the pantry and refrigerator. I was trying to decide if I was hungry enough to potentially burn down the house trying to cook.

"Ha!" My dad laughed mockingly at whatever he was reading in the tabloid. I opened the pantry and turned the light on. I eventually decided I could manage cereal, so I grabbed the box and turned the pantry light off.

I placed the box of cereal on the island, and tried to remember which pantry had the bowls. I stared at the never ending line of them and found I had no idea. I opened the dishwasher, hoping there was a bowl in there. Thankfully, it hadn't been unloaded yet. I grabbed a bowl from the tray and a spoon from the attachment on the inside of the dishwasher door.

I traveled over to the refrigerator and opened it. And, of course, there was no milk.

My early morning anger flared and I slammed the door shut. I grumbled to myself as I roughly slammed the cereal box down on the shelf inside the pantry.

Dad looked up at the noise.

"Oh yeah," he said, "no milk. It's amazing how we have coconut milk, but no regular milk."

He turned the page again.

I threw myself down in a seat across from him and stared at the tabletop.

"Yeah, amazing." I murmured sarcastically.

"We're pretty pathetic, aren't we?" Dad mused with a smile, "We can't even feed ourselves one meal without your mother."

I shrugged, and pushed my hair out of my face.

"We're guys." I said as if it explained everything, which it did.

He nodded in agreement, "That's why I ordered Chinese food a few minutes ago."

Ha! Victory! With the prospect of getting good oriental food in my stomach, I cheered up generously.

"So…where is mom anyway? Isn't she like a nocturnal super woman or something? She's always awake at the crack of dawn."

He turned the page of the tabloid again.

"She was at work until about seven this morning. They had some problems there." He laughed at something in the magazine, "Ha! Apparently your mother and I are divorcing because we cheated on each other with the _same _person."

I snorted, "Wow. Do you think they're implying that your gay or that mom is a lesbian?"

He shuddered in disgust and thrust the magazine at me, "Look at the supposed home wrecker. It may be neither."

The picture was of this woman/man thing with a very creepy smile. I swear, tabloids would buy anything. I remember in kindergarten the paparazzi asked me what I thought about my family, and I said that they were like super heroes; the tabloids ran a story about how my parents did drugs or some shit like that. Shortly after that was when my parents started trailing the bodyguards on me. They think I don't know about Elephant George or whatever his name is, but it's pretty easy to know when you're being followed. Of course, when I confronted Elephant George, he said that he had to sign a contract with my parents that stated that he couldn't tell them about anything I did unless it was life threatening. Which made the contract that was supposed to keep me from feeling invaded worthless, because about everything I did was life threatening.

So whenever the reporters tried to talk to me, Elephant George came out of the shadows and roared and they all ran away like frightened little mice. I guess Elephant George is a nice enough guy, he loans me money sometimes when I need it. But it's still kind of freakish to be followed everywhere by a mammoth of a man.

"Ew." I grimaced as I pushed the magazine back at him.

I watched him read through the ridiculous stories that involved him or my mom, and I wondered if he knew what it was like to feel alone. And for a moment, as terrible as it sounds, I wished him and my mother really would divorce so he would know what it was like to feel so lonely.

I remember, before all the baby chaos started, I thought I had the best family in the whole entire world. When all my classmates used to talk about how either their mom was always there and their father wasn't, or vice versa, I was able to say it wasn't that way for me. I never had one parent that was always there, while the other was gone. Most the time I had both mom and dad. But it really depended on what they were doing at the time. Whenever mom was recording a CD or taking a part in a movie, Dad was there the most. Whenever Dad was in a movie or TV show, Mom took care of me.

But they always made sure to spend equal time with me. Whenever dad was busy and mom watched me during the day, he would read to me before bed. I used to look forward to it so much. Dad was the one that ultimately made reading fun for me. He used to use different voices for all the characters, and I wanted nothing more than to be exactly like him when I grew up. When he would go on trips, I used to watch his TV shows or movies before bed.

When dad was there most the time, and mom was the one that got home late, she would tell me stories. She never read out of a book, she just lay down beside me and made up these fantastic stories from the top of her head. Dad never made up stories, only read them. As I got older, I began to realize why. I thought that maybe he was so afraid of disappointing me with his stories, that he only told the ones he knew would be entertaining. My mother was different though. I would miss her so much after a day when she was gone. I still remember being a little boy and cuddling up next to her. Sometimes her stories really sucked, but most the time they were exciting. She'd stare at my ceiling, seeing things I could never imagine, and just rattle off these adventures. I used to pretend that they were all real, and that she was a super hero. But back then I thought she was super hero for other reasons then the ones I did when I was older. I thought it was because of the way she told stories, or the way her grilled cheese sandwiches were always better then the other moms, or how a kiss on a cut really did make it hurt less. But as I got older, I realized it was other things that made her that way. Like the way she always woke up with her head held high, no matter how low it was the night before. Or how she was able to put up with so much and still live. When she'd go on tour, it was always difficult for me. I guess growing up I was a mommy's boy to the max. I used to play her CDs as I drifted off to sleep…it helped.

It started sometime after I started kindergarten. I remember sitting at the kitchen table eating pasta, and watching my mother eat the grossest of foods (at least to a five year old): vegetables and fruits. She seemed to be aiming toward something on the moon that I, at the age of five, couldn't see yet. But even that young, I had a gut feeling she'd miss that goal. I just hoped she'd land among the stars, instead of spiraling into a black hole toward her death.

Then, right before I was about to turn eight, my mom got really sick. After she'd get me up for school, she used to have to run into the bathroom and throw up. She was always so tired, and I couldn't help but notice that her stomach was getting a very foreign and strange lumpy look to it. Not to mention she was always either sitting or lying down, and I was constantly asked to "please keep it down".

I mentioned all this to my friend Victoria at school. She told me that her mommy's mom had that happened, and they called it cancer. She also told me that her mommy's mom died from it very fast. I went home that day pretty hysterical. After all, I thought my mother was dying! While running toward the living room, my dad caught me by the shoulders. I asked him if my mom had cancer and if she was going to die and he just laughed. Then, him and mom told me what was going on. I guess, in a way, I grew attached to the sister I would never know. Whenever I would hug mom, my face would press against her stomach, and the baby used to kick. Then, after a while, I remember sitting in the hospital waiting room with poppy, Nana and grandpa, Oliver, Lilly, Jackson, Emily, and Lana. I sat beside Lana for the majority of the time, and we played tic-tac-toe. Emily slept on Oliver's lap for most of the time.

Then, my dad came out. I moved to run to him, but Lana pulled me to her and wouldn't let go. Then, when I saw his face, I understood. It was horror-stricken and full of pain. Lana handed me to poppy and she hugged her brother. He said something to them all, but I missed it. Emily, who had woken up earlier, just looked at me with the same confused look I harbored.

And from that point on, everything changed. Mom no longer sang happily while making breakfast, or made up stories to tell me before bed. She took care of me, but didn't take time to get to know me. Dad was different also. _I _was different.

Then, when I turned ten, mom was pregnant again. And everything went back to normal. She would have told me her made up stories again if I hadn't had been too old by then. She was so happy, that for months we all painted the house these happy colors. We went to concerts, parks, plays…anything just to have fun. I remember having a sense of déjà vu as I waited in the waiting room. But this time, my dad came out with a smile and a tiny baby. I was the first to hold Bell besides mom, dad, and the doctors. Dad carefully handed me to her, and she was so small. I loved her automatically. I was already planning all the things we could do together. When she got older, we could search the whole house for Christmas presents together! She could be my partner in crime, and help keep watch when I stole some cookies for us!

A little while later, we were all allowed to go in and see mom. I sat on the foot of the bed while she held tight to Bell (I disliked the name Isabella or Bella, I was going to call her Bell) and I felt so happy she had gotten what she needed. She and dad looked so happy that I couldn't see one downside to having a little sister. Jackson told me that Bell was going to annoy me to death, but I didn't believe him.

Then she died.

Dad cried, and mom did nothing. I cried, a lot actually. But while my parents thought I was crying solely for Bell, it was really for my mom and dad. I didn't understand why they couldn't have just had Bell. I didn't understand at all. My parents were good people, weren't they? I thought so. I didn't understand why they were getting punished. It made me sad to see them sad.

And then they started neglecting me. They did what I never would have been able to do—they decided they wanted to try again. If it was me, I wouldn't have done that. I would have known it was a bad idea, and that it would ultimately hurt everyone in this family. But they were blinded by rage and want.

A few years later, as I sat in my room and wondered why I wasn't good enough, I wandered upon a website. It was a website all about woman who had lost children. And apparently many of them, tragically enough, let their other children slip into the cracks for fear of getting to know them and then losing them too. It made me feel a little better that it wasn't just me…that it was something that happened to most women who lost children.

But it still didn't stop the hurt. So I decided from that point on that I didn't need my mother or father. I was fine without them. If they weren't going to love me, I wasn't going to love them. I decided to do everything I could to lead myself to the grave, to test how much they loved me. And they reacted with such attention, that it only made me want to do it more. The more bad things I did, the more attention I got.

And now, I can see they know what they've done. I can tell they want to apologize and know me again. But when I think about this, I can only wonder one thing.

For how long?

Just as my mom was afraid to love me in fear of losing me, I'm afraid to know her in fear of losing her again. Nothing is worst then losing someone and having them sit beside you at the dinner table.

"Cole?"

My dad's voice jerked me from my revere. He was pulled Chinese takeout boxes from a cardboard box.

"What would you like?" He asked.

"I can do it." I responded, as I stood up and served myself.

I've been told my stubbornness is something I inherited from my mother. You can't fight fire with fire.

MILEY'S POV:

"Shit!"

His voice startled me from my light doze. I jerked awake.

"What?" I mumbled.

His left hand moved back and he ran his fingers softly through my now dry hair. I found my eyes growing heavy again, and I let them fall shut. I felt him shift from underneath me, and then I heard some pages being turned at a very fast rate.

"What?" I tried to ask again, but my mouth seemed to be full of cotton.

"Shhh…" He said as he stroked the side of my face, "Go on back to sleep."

His caresses eventually lulled me to a state of content. From behind a thick wall I could hear him grumbling in anger and disapproval. I tried to fight with my sleepiness to see what was going on, but my brain seemed to be fogged.

Another loud noise knocked me awake. It was the sound of something hitting a wall. It was followed by a loud curse.

I fought with my eyes and opened them. The ceiling of my bedroom stared back at me. Jake was sitting up against the pillows, and I was sitting between his legs and leaning back against his chest. I stirred and his arms instinctively moved around me.

"What's wrong?" I asked sleepily. He kissed the top of my head.

"Nothing's wrong. Don't worry. Rest. You need to sleep."

I shook my head stubbornly, and turned it around to look at him. His expression was set in a hard line; a sure sign that something was bothering him. I reached up and touched his cheek.

"Tell me."

He shut his eyes briefly and sighed. He grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it lightly. He held onto my hand for a few long seconds.

"Nothing is the matter. I just hit my hand on the dresser."

I craned my neck and got a good look at him.

"You changed your clothes," I said, "did you leave?"

He smiled at me, "It's about three P.M., darling. I got up and ate some Chinese with that son of ours who graces us with his presence once every blue moon."

Three P.M.?! Man I was out of it! I must have been if he was able to move me, go eat, and then come back into his position without me even stirring.

I wanted to wake up and go do something, but I was comfortable with him. It's funny how bipolar we can be sometimes. We can have these horrible nasty fights and feel like we don't know each other, and then go to this. Right now I feel like no one knows me better then he does. I guess what they say it true. Fight hard, love harder. Well, actually, I think it's work hard, play harder but same thing.

"I think he hates me."

It wasn't what I wanted to come out of my mouth, but it did. At that moment, I wanted Jake to know every little fear buried inside of me. And that was one of the darker ones.

His arms tightened around me. He kissed my temple.

"Cole does not hate you, Miley. You're his mother, and he loves you. I just think we all need to sit down and talk. My mother and father let me and Lana fall into the cracks after Lindsay died, but I love them. They apologized and we all talked so we could understand each other. We just need to talk to him."

I pressed the side of my face on his chest, over his heart.

"But what if it's too late? We've been bad parents, Jake. We've put up with his crap for so long…and I don't want him to hurt himself anymore."

He stroked down my face and neck softly, thoughtfully.

"We could always go to a family therapist."

"No," I murmured, shaking my head, "No. I don't trust therapists anymore."

"He'll come around, Miles. I promise. He's just a teenage boy who feels he doesn't need help with anything."

"But he _does_." I whispered, "At least, I think he does."

Jake nodded. He rested his chin on the top of my head.

"He gets that from you. The whole not asking for help when it's needed thing."

I sighed, "And he gets the prideful thing from you."

"Double whammy." He agreed.

I nodded, "Yes."

Jake was silent for a moment, "We should go somewhere as a family this weekend."

"Yes. After work today, hopefully nothing horrible will happen again so I won't have to go in again. Do you have to go in for work tomorrow?"

He nodded. Then, as he traced random patterns idly over my collarbones, he said, "Come with me?"

"To work?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Sure."

"Good."

As I lay there, I couldn't help but think that maybe things we're going to be so much better now. But after I thought that, I automatically knew that was a lie. Because as soon as I thought that, something horrible usually happened. But I didn't know how to stop the bad things from happening. I guess just dealing with them is the only thing I can do. I can't fight them. You can't fight fire with fire.


	13. Affect

**A/n:** Sorry it took so long! But the good news is, I have the next chapter written already so I can just post that once everyone has had a chance to read this chapter. Thanks to my beta Jen (SVUlover) for helping me so much with this story so far. I also want to apologize to all you who reviewed last chapter. I'm really behind on my review replying, and I feel really bad about it, but I just want you all to know that I greatly appreciate you taking the time to leave a review. So thanks XD Um...oh yeah! There's a link for Miley's attire she wears in this chapter in my profile, if you're interested in checking that out.

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**"Even when just his memory remains, he still affects _everything_." -- Jen (SVUlover)**

* * *

"What are three things you would never want to do?"

I finished running the brush through my hair and set it down softly on the bureau. I studied my reflection. My hair had air dried, and looked absolutely horrendous. My curls were frizzy and pointed every which way.

I grimaced, and opened one of the bottom drawers. I extracted the flat iron.

"Umm…" I pondered Jake's question as my eyes searched the bathroom for an outlet. I spotted one beside the medicine cabinet. I cradled the flat iron in my hands and walked over to the sink. I set it on the counter, and plugged it in. I adjusted the temperature, and then turned around.

"Three things I would never want to do…" I tapped my nails against the stone counter as I thought. He inspected his hair in the mirror as he waited for my answer.

"Sky dive, be president of the United States, and…move back into your parents' house." I shuddered thinking about the year we had to spend there.

He sprayed something on his hair, and then turned back around to face me. He smiled at me.

"What about you?" I questioned.

"Hmm. That's an easy one. Go to bed every night without you there, be without you, and…be in a Viagra commercial." He grinned.

I blushed, and then laughed.

"You're too sweet…" I started. I put a mock look of suspicion on my face, "How do I know you're not just saying that to get in my pants?"

He leaned against the wall and smirked.

"Because I'm already in them."

"Touché."

"Indeed."

I let an identical smirk cover my face, "Let me rephrase that. How do I know you're not just saying that to be the _only_ one in my pants?"

"Ha, ha, ha!" He exclaimed sarcastically as he started over toward the sink. I laughed and turned away from him. He poked my stomach.

"Very funny. It's so funny; I think my lungs have burst!"

"I thought it was funny," I giggled.

"I'm sure you did." His hands tickled a particularly ticklish spot on my stomach, and I doubled over in laughter. I swatted at his hands as the lack of oxygen began to may my chest burn, and my eyes water.

He stopped just as I thought I was going to laugh myself to death, and as I tried to straighten up, a dizzy spell overwhelmed me.

My hands gripped at the counter to steady me, but unfortunately for me, my left hand landed on the four hundred and fifty degrees flat iron.

"Ow! Dammit!" I cried. I yanked my hand away from the flat iron and bounced on the balls of my feet, waving my injured hand.

Jake frowned, "Did you burn yourself?"

I bounced around the bathroom, torn between laughter and tears.

"Ow! Yes! Oww! Make it stop!"

He walked toward me, "Well stop jumping around and let me see it!"

"I can't! It hurts!"

"Then stop jumping around!"

"Ow! Make it stop!"

"I would if you would _stop moving_!"

He reached for my hand. I pulled it out of his reach.

"No…I need water!"

I made a beeline for the faucet, but Jake stopped me. The burn was throbbing at this point.

"You know what water does to it." He said sternly.

I bounced impatiently and waved my hand once more, trying to get the cool air to soothe it.

"Yes! It'll make it better!"

I lunged for the sink.

"Fine." He said, "But you know it's going to hurt even worse when you take it out of the water."

I turned the sink on, and emerged my hand in the spray. I let out a breath of relief as the cool water made it hurt less.

A few moments later, Jake was beside me with a washcloth. He sighed, grabbed my wrist, and moved it from the water. He put the washcloth in the sink.

"Ow!" I yelped. He was right, it was hurting even more.

He wrapped it in the soaking wet washcloth.

"Thanks." I sighed.

He smiled, "We're even now!"

My eyes drifted to his bandage-less foot. I hadn't given it much thought after all that had happened. But I realized he must have taken if off long before he got in the shower, because the water would have messed it up anyway.

I frowned.

"Where's the bandage?"

His thumb jerked at the trashcan.

"It's not bleeding anymore, so I figured I didn't need it."

"I can still get dirty." I muttered in disapproval.

He patted the washcloth on my burnt hand, "I think I'll be fine."

My uninjured hand reached for the flat iron. I began the tedious job of straightening it. I grabbed a curl and placed it between the flat iron, and ran the tool down the lock of hair. I repeated this for what seemed like hours until my hair was perfectly straight. I glanced at it in the mirror, and noticed a few frizzy flyaways. I frowned.

"Hey Jake," I asked, "What should I spray on my hair to make it less frizzy?"

His eyes examined my hair, and went on a hair product scavenger hunt. By the time he came back with something, I was finished straightening my hair and the flat iron was off.

"Here you go!" He said cheerfully. As I sprayed it in my hair, I couldn't help but laugh lightly. It's not often you see a situation where the husband knows more about hair care then the wife.

Once my hair was taken care of, I entered the bedroom and opened the closet. I was feeling good today. Well, much better then I usually was anyway. I glanced at Jake, who was checking his phone, and knew why this was.

When you're blinded by the light, you can't see the darkness.

Jake was my light. And when I allow myself to just be absorbed in him, I couldn't see the problems as clearly as I could before.

I picked out a cotton, three quarter length sleeved dress with black and white horizontal stripes decorating it. After I had my clothing picked out, I walked over to my dresser and selected a bra and underwear. I walked over to the staircase in the corner of the room and hung the dress over the railing.

While I was dressing, I listened to Jake talk to Alana. She was upset about something, and his soothing voice was trying to get her to calm down. I marveled how he could knock sense into anyone. He always knew the best things to say…

My thoughts drifted off to less G rated things, and before I knew it, I had somehow allowed myself to get twisted up in my dress. My arms were through what I guessed was either the same arm hole, or the head hole, and my head could find any opening at all.

"Mom? Can you hold on a minute? Yes. Of course. Oh, it's just Miley. No, she's not upset. She's stuck. Yes. In a dress. I don't know how it happen—…I was just about to go help her! I _am _a good person! I couldn't go because _you _were talking to me! Fine! Hold on."

I stopped struggling against the fabric and waited for Jake to come rescue me from the evil clutches of the inanimate object.

"What in the…how did you do this?" He asked me. I could see the outline of his body as he tried to figure out how to get the dress off me.

"This is all your fault!" I pouted.

I could see his smirk even when I couldn't _see _it.

"It's not my fault that you enjoy thinking dirty thoughts about me."

I gaped, "Wha—…_how _did you know…" I gave up, and just sighed.

Finally, he grabbed my arms and pulled them out of the hole they were sticking out of. He then worked the dress off.

The cool air rushed at me, and I squinted my eyes against the light.

"I didn't know," he said with a cocky grin, "I was just kidding. But now I do."

I narrowed my eyes at him jokingly.

He pulled me against him. His hands caressed down my bare back for a minute, then he pulled back to look at me.

"Just so you know, I think dirty thoughts about you, too. All the time."

He winked.

I rolled my eyes and ignored the butterflies in my stomach.

"Go talk to your mother!" I playfully pushed him toward the phone. He winked at me once more before picking up the receiver.

"Yes, Mom. She's alive. No, she didn't die. Yeah. Uh huh. Do you want to talk to her?"

He caught my eye and I shook my head with a breakneck speed. I loved my mother-in-law, but she could talk like no one I've ever met before. And that was counting Lilly.

"Never mind, she's busy. That's none of your business, dear mother. No. _No._ _No!! _I don't want to—hey Lana."

I picked the twisted up mess of my dress off the floor, and untangled it. Once it was in its former state, I pulled it on successfully. I smoothed it with my hands and glanced in the mirror to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be. I frowned. The dress catastrophe had made my hair messy again.

I sighed and walked back into the bathroom for the hairbrush. I ran it through my hair and listened to one side of Jake's conversation.

"I said I was sorry. I said it a long time ago! Of course you heard it! I won't. You can't make me. No. _No_. Ugh, you're such a brat. Fine. I'm sorry. No you may not talk to her! Because. Because she's busy. That's none of your business! Dear God! You're just like Mom!"

I snickered to myself as I reached into the first drawer on the bureau. I decided I might as well put makeup on. I pulled the eyeliner out and started applying it.

"Great. No. I don't _care _what he did! Ew! Shut up! That's something you need to talk to your girl friends about! Not your older brother! You wha—…I beg your pardon? You're sick. Be quiet about it, or I'm hanging up on you."

I dropped the eyeliner back in the drawer and grabbed some blush and a brush. I swept it across my cheekbones.

"Sure. I said sure. No I don't want to comment on it! I'm not a commentary person! It's a nice name! I already said it was!"

I grabbed some peach colored eyeshadow and swirled a brush in it. I closed my eye and smoothed the color across the lid.

"_Please_ don't get back on that topic. I don't want to know what he did! Keep your husband and your…stuff out of this conversation!! Yes I am, but just because I'm a grown up doesn't mean I want to hear about that! What? Are…are you giving me the _talk_? Of course I know how babies are made! No...stop…_oh my god don't say it like that_!"

I laughed as I placed the eyeshadow up and grabbed the mascara. I swiped the wand up my eyelashes.

"Are you done? Good. Yes, I am officially scarred for life now. No I don't need you to tell me that! I _know_! Please, don't, Lana! If you do I swear I'm hanging up this phone. No I'm not afraid to talk about sex. Talking about it with my little sister just makes me gag! Say what? No! I'm not going to say that! Fine, go ahead."

I closed the makeup drawer and walked back into the bedroom. Jake was glaring at the wall as Lana talked. I smiled at him. He grimaced back, and pointed at the receiver.

I picked out a pair of gray flats from my closet, and slipped them on. I decided I'd die without Jake, so I decided to take the phone from his grip before Lana killed him.

I pressed it to my ear, and Lana's voice flitted through the earpiece.

"And that's the third and final type. Any questions?"

I stifled a laugh, "I've got one. Why are you talking about this with Jake?"

She laughed, "Miley!" She said delightedly, "I called to talk to you, but Jake wouldn't let me. I figured that would be the easiest way to get you on the phone."

I smirked at the object of our conversation and sat down across from him, on the bed.

"What did you need to talk about?" I asked.

"I saw something on the TV this morning. They said something happened at your center, but no one was allowed to say anything to the press about it yet."

I closed my eyes and sighed. I would have just told her, but I wanted to tell Jake first. And I wasn't ready to tell him yet.

"I need to talk to Melanie and get the full story first," I lied, "then I can call you back and tell you."

"Okay," She sighed, "I was just wondering."

My eyes fell on a magazine that was sticking out from underneath the bed. I looked at it curiously. It looked like it was hastily hidden.

"Well I'll talk to you later then, okay?"

"Yeah." She replied.

I picked up the magazine. I heard Jake curse under his breath. I turned to look at him, my eyebrows raised.

"Bye!" I exclaimed. I ended the call, and tossed the phone on the bed. My eyes raked over the glossy magazine cover.

"Hmm…looks like I'm anorexic this week." I laughed as I studied the obviously photo shopped picture of myself.

Jake sat down beside me.

"I thought you'd be upset by it." He admitted.

I leafed through the pages.

"Why? They say stuff about us all the time. Like that one time they said we cheated on each other for the same person…that was humorous." I paused at an article on Jesse McCartney.

"But those involved us, our relationship. They haven't targeted just you for a long time. I wasn't sure if you remembered how to handle that."

I looked up at him and smiled.

"You never forget how to ride a bike, do you?"

He reached over and turned the page. I looked at him curiously.

"His face was getting on my nerves." He said.

I rolled my eyes.

"That's why I was angry when you woke up. Because they said that. They have no right to judge you." He said, gazing at me. I met his gaze, and practically melted into a puddle.

I leaned in and kissed him softly for a moment. I pulled back quickly though, because there was no doubt in my mind that we would get carried away if I didn't. And I'd been in the bed long enough this morning.

I stood up, "Guess I better go see how things are doing out there. People probably think I've died."

He shook his head, "Nah. They think I've stolen you away from the rest of the world."

If only he had.

Just as we were walking out of the bedroom, the phone rang again. It seemed as if everyone in the world had us on speed dial.

"You go ahead, I'll get it." I told him.

I walked back over to the bed and sat down. I leaned over and grabbed the phone.

"Hello?"

"Miley! I just heard what happened! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have asked you to go. I'm really, really sorry. But I'm on my way now, so don't worry about coming in for a while." Melanie exclaimed.

I smoothed my dress over my legs.

"It's fine."

I heard the radio playing softly in the background.

"Is it, though? It must have hurt to have to see those girls like that…and know exactly how they feel."

I picked at one of the two buttons that were on my dress as I pondered my response.

"I think it hurt more to see that there are so many men in the world that don't know the meaning of no...so many men that hold disrespect for woman. "

She was silent on the other end of the line.

"Miley, no men know the meaning of that word. Even the best men don't think about you when their second brain in is control. They don't think about your feelings, they think about your body. No man is better than that. In a way, they are all rapists. That's not a very good way to describe those boys. Try something like…evil, cruel, or maybe even disgusting."

I felt as if ice replaced the blood pumping around my body.

"That's not true, Melanie." I whispered.

She was silent for a moment.

"But it is."

Her words rang around my head, but I didn't say anything.

"I've got to go." I muttered, and hung up the phone before she could even say goodbye. It seemed negativity toward men was coming at me from every direction. What Melanie said wasn't true. Not all men were like that. Jake wasn't like that.

…right?

* * *

The sunlight danced on my skin and made most my worries drift away. I opened the fridge, and instinctively reached for the cinnamon rolls. When Cole was younger, that was all he'd eat for breakfast.

I had already opened the package before I caught my mistake. But I decided it didn't matter. I turned on the oven and grabbed a baking sheet from the drawer underneath it. I pulled the patties of dough apart from the others, and spread them out on the baking sheet. By the time that was done, and I had thrown the package away, the oven beeped. I stuck the baking sheet into the oven.

I placed my hands on the counter beside the stove and hoisted myself up. I stared outside with glazed eyes while the cinnamon rolls baked. The smell lured everyone out of their respectable rooms.

Cole was first to wander in, followed by a sleepy Moose. Jake came next, on the phone with his mother _again, _bless his soul. Emily dragged her tired feet in and collapsed at the table.

"Hello!" I exclaimed cheerily. Moose trotted over to me and nudged my leg with his nose. I pet his soft head and he wagged his tail.

"Mom! Oh my…I've got to go! There's an emergency! Um…" Jake looked helplessly at me.

"OW! My _God_! Help me!" I screamed out in mock pain. Jake flashed a thumbs up at me.

"Miley cut herself! On _accident_, Mom. Bye!" He pressed end, and let the phone crash to the ground.

"Thank _God_!" he exclaimed, "I didn't think she'd ever shut up."

He sat down in one of the stools that were in front of the island. I moved to sit in the chair beside him, but the timer stopped me.

I opened the oven. The rush of heat made me look away. I grabbed a pot holder and pulled the cinnamon rolls from the fiery monster's mouth.

The most pleasant smell filled the room as I set them on the stovetop. I opened the icing container that came with them, and started spreading the white cream on the top of them.

When I was younger, my mother used to always make us wait for them to cool off. She'd let them get lukewarm, then spread the icing on. I did the opposite, because I thought they were the best when the icing was melted and the roll was warm.

"Cinnamon rolls anyone?" I asked. When I turned around, they were all behind me.

I laughed, "Don't forget plates!" I joked.

Before anyone could get their rolls, the most frightening sound filled the air. One person in the room was more frightened by that sound then any of the others. That person was me.

"_MILEY_!" Oliver thundered. Oliver's yell was so loud that Cole grimaced and pressed his hands over his ears.

I heard doors getting slammed into the walls as Oliver made a path of destruction toward the kitchen.

"Quick!" Jake whispered loudly, "Hide her!"

"That's ridiculous. Oliver is my best friend. He won't hurt me."

"IF I FIND YOU, YOU WILL REGRET IT!" Oliver screamed.

I shrunk back behind Jake, "Okay. Maybe he will."

When Oliver shoved open the kitchen door, everything was quiet. I was too afraid to look and see his expression, so I stayed hidden behind Jake.

"Where is she?" His voice was low and threatening.

And suddenly, a different voice filled the room. A voice I'd never heard before.

"Oliver. Stop this right this moment. You need to calm down." Her voice was calming, but held a strong sense of authority to it.

"Miss Claire!" Emily cried in delight.

I let out a sigh of relief. Now that Oliver was aware his daughter was in the room, I was safe. I came out from behind Jake.

Oliver was standing beside a woman I'd never seen before. She was average height, with light brown hair that rested a few inches below her shoulders in curls. Her face was pleasantly beautiful, and I automatically could tell Oliver cared for her greatly by the way his body leaned toward her automatically.

Emily embraced the woman, and Oliver smiled at his only child. He pulled Emily into hug.

"Thank goodness you're okay! I was so worried!" He exclaimed as he smoothed his daughter's dark curls. Emily hugged him back then sighed.

"Daddy…you're embarrassing me."

He let go of her. He turned his eyes to me. I smiled the most innocent smile I owned.

"Hi?"

He growled and started walking toward me.

I backed up, "So…how about the weather? Nice, huh?" I laughed nervously.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Um…" I hid behind Jake.

I peeked out from behind his arm and stuck my tongue out at Oliver.

"Ha!" I exclaimed.

He lunged forward.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!"

Jake pushed Oliver back and glared at him.

"You can express your emotions like a human being! Now shut up, and talk to her! If you lay one hand on her, I'll throw you through this window in front of your girlfriend and your daughter."

Cole whistled lowly underneath his breath.

Oliver crossed his arms over his chest.

"Fine." There was a one second pause, then he exploded again.

"HOW COULD YOU BRING HER THERE WITH YOU?! WERE YOU ON DRUGS? DRUNK? SHE COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!! SHE WILL NEVER, EVER STAY OVER HERE AGAIN! I DON'T TRUST YOU WITH MY DAUGHTER ANYMORE! I JUST CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD DO THIS!"

I was laughing. I was glad he didn't know what _really _happened…

"WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?!"

I sighed, "Because Emily was not in danger. I would never expose her to danger."

"NOT IN DANGER? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"

"No."

"AHHHH!" He lunged forward again.

"OLIVER!" Jake and Claire screamed.

He stopped, and glared at me with venom.

Claire stepped forward.

"Let me introduce _myself_ because Oliver is being so immature. I'm Claire Blinkerhoff."

I saw Cole's posture change in the corner of my eye when he heard the woman's name.

I smiled nervously, "Hi, Claire. I'm Miley, this is my husband Jake, and that's our son Cole." I motioned at each of them in turn.

She blushed, "I know who you guys are. It's so surreal to see you guys in the flesh, when I'm so used to reading about you all in all the magazines. Did you two really break up for a month because you cheated on each other with the same person?"

Her small hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes widened.

"Oh! I'm sorry. That's none of my business. Please forgive me. Sometimes I just say things…"

I laughed, "It's fine. No, that's not true. Most of the things you've read are probably not true."

"Probably not," She agreed, "I'm dating Oliver and I'm Emily's Pointe ballet teacher, if you're wondering how I know them."

_Dating _Oliver? So our little killer had a girlfriend! I studied her again. She was a graceful woman, most likely due to her profession, and she seemed nice enough. I noticed her eyes were the brightest blue I've ever seen in my life.

"Oh, I see. I'm sorry."

Oliver glared at me.

"You're skating on thin ice…" He threatened me.

I motioned at Claire, who looked annoyed.

"Actually, I think _you_ are."

Emily broke the silence.

"Miss Claire's daughter, Lila, is my best friend." Her voice sounded strained. I looked at her oddly, as did everyone else.

She was staring directly at Cole.

"Cole knows her too. _Very _well. Don't you, Cole?" She was talking through clenched teeth.

Did Cole date this girl? My son was _dating_?! Holy hell. When did that happened? Did I date when I was fourteen?

I felt strangely startled when I realized I had been dating when I was fourteen. I was dating my husband.

He shrugged, "Yeah, I know her pretty well. She goes to my school after all." He muttered.

Emily was angry. She was wringing her hands and grinding her teeth together.

"Anything you'd like to tell your parents and Lila's mom while we're all here together?"

I didn't allow myself to make assumptions as to what Emily was talking about. I blocked her words out and focused on Cole's.

"No." He replied.

She looked disappointed, but I wasn't. I wouldn't allow myself to be suspicious. If Cole acted like there was nothing wrong, then there wasn't. I prayed there wasn't.

"Okay." Claire said, picking up on the tension that was palpable in the room, "Well, it was nice meeting you all."

"You too!" I exclaimed. She muttered something to Oliver, and then walked out of the kitchen.

He was frowning as he took Emily by the hand.

"We're leaving, Em."

He marched her out of the kitchen without even stopping to say goodbye.

"Wow." I muttered.

"Yeah." Cole agreed.

"So…who's up for extra cinnamon rolls?!"

* * *

Moonlight has a feel. Just like the sun has a certain touch, so does the moonlight. It's cool and fresh as it brushes against bare skin. It's so condensed, that even streaming through an open window, it can set nerves on fire.

The clock ticked loudly from the wall. It seemed to be going extra slow. I sighed and pulled the blankets up to my shoulders. It was one A.M., and I still wasn't sleepy yet. I supposed this was due to the fact that I slept very late that afternoon.

I slid my hand across the open space between me and Jake. I touched his shoulder. His skin was smooth underneath my fingertips.

"Jake?" I asked quietly.

The weight shifted on the bed as he turned around to look at me. The moonlight puddled on his face, and gave it a beautiful, blue hue.

I paused. I could back out now. It wasn't too late to decide it was better not to tell him. There was really no need. There was "no need" to tell him a lot of things, I realized. I kept things from him because I felt that I didn't need his worrying and nagging. But maybe, like our son, I did and I just was too stubborn to realize it.

Did he keep things from me? Would I want him not to tell me what was bothering him? Could I ever _really_ tell him _everything_? Was it possible to allow yourself to tell the person you love everything, even if it will hurt them? Or was it better to just let yourself carry the burden all alone, to save them the pain of the secret?

He waited patiently. While he did, my eyes raked over the face I knew by heart. Nothing was different. His hair was still the same shade of gold, his eyes were still subtle green, his facial bone structure had not been changed…but yet I knew, as soon as I told him, he was going to look different

"I…" I faltered. One part of me wanted to tell him what happened at work. The other didn't.

His eyes studied my face.

"What is it?" He asked, confusion set in his eyes as he tried to read what was bothering me.

"I need to tell you something." I finally pushed the heavy statement through my lips. It traveled through the air like a hurricane, and made me want to hide.

He sat back down beside me, his eyes still trying to read the truth in my eyes.

"Is it bad?" He asked hesitantly.

I paused.

"It's not good." I replied.

He waited.

The words were rising rapidly. I tried to swallow them down, but they spilled from my lips. The silence buzzed around the room like a moth looking for light. The buzz of the silence and the ticking of the clock were suffocating me. The noises pressed down on me until it was hard to breathe. I didn't know how to tell him. I didn't know how to resurrect the horrible things we thought were dead. I didn't _want _to.

He reached out and touched my arm. His touch gave me the courage I need to give my words the extra push.

"There wasn't a fight at work today," I started slowly. I tried to figure out the best way to say this.

"Two girls were hurt. A man, or possibly men, hurt them." I struggled out. Jake had me in his arms in an instant, a reflex.

"I'm sorry." He breathed into my hair.

"There's more." My voice was sharper then I had intended it to be, "I knew their stories before they even told them. I knew their injuries before they even knew about them. And I know what scars they are going to have still, after fourteen years into the future."

I hated how silent it was. My words seemed to echo around the room.

"I don't understand," He finally admitted.

"The girls were Marlene and Macy. Both seventeen, both pregnant. Both of them share the same scars as I do. Oh God, Jake. I don't know how it happened! But I got there, and I saw the girls, and they are hurt in all the same places I was hurt that time you were in Italy! The _same exact _places! And both their names start with an 'M', not to mention they are seventeen and as far along in their pregnancy as I was at the time! I had to give a statement to the detective, and I heard the girl's statements, and they were exactly the same! Except for one part, but everything else was the same! Is this someone's idea of a sick joke? Do they think it's funny? Because I don't think it's funny at all!"

The silence was even more suffocating now. I rested my face on his chest. I couldn't bear to see his face.

I wasn't sure if he would be comforting, angry, or upset. I didn't know until I felt his hands start to quiver in rage.

I heard him taking deep breaths. He calmed himself down a bit before he started stroking my hair.

"It's not funny," His teeth were glued together; "It's not funny at all. And when they find who it was, I'll make sure I show him the same humor he's shown you and those girls. My God! Nobody thinks anymore! They just…" He trailed off angrily.

He didn't get it. He was angry because the memory hurt me. But he didn't know the half of it.

"That's not all." My words were muffled against his body.

"What?!"

"When I went to my office, there was a recording. A recording on my answering machine. It was audio from that night, when I was hurt. No one could have had that, Jake. How could they have had it? No one was in there. No one had the room wired. And even if they did, why? Who would have done that? They wouldn't have been able to. They wouldn't have known anything was going to happen that night. And how could any group of boys, no matter how many times they heard my press conference, imitated that? How would they have known exactly where the cuts were on my body and the length of them, and the exact location…it's not possible! It's just not possible!"

It was silent as Jake scrambled for something, anything, to make this situation make sense.

"When I had to leave you, Luke had plenty of people working for him. It was like he had his own little cult of teenagers, or other low life people who had nothing better to do then listen to him. They did what Luke said because he gave them shelter, and money. But maybe he recorded what happened to you that night, and showed his trainees. Maybe that's how they knew."

He was fishing for some sanity. As highly unlikely as I thought it was, I wasn't going to shoot down his idea. Before I could agree, he was talking again.

"There is one person that would be able to tell you for sure." He said slowly, measuring each word.

I blinked, "Who?"

He pulled me closer, "Lilly."

Lilly. She never had told what happened those months she was with Luke. Her nightmares stopped, but she never told. And of course no one pushed her.

"I can't do that to her, Jake. She might not even know. I want to forget, and I know she wants to too. It's not that important."

His temper flared, "It _is _important!"

"Why? It's over now. They'll probably catch them anyway." I argued.

"It's important because _you _are important to me! What if they decide to come after you, huh? What if they hurt you? What would I do then? What would I do without you?"

His words sliced me open, and I bled.

"You'd go on with life."

"Wrong. But you've still got two strikes left," His voice was bitingly sarcastic and sharp.

"Go find some beautiful model to marry?"

He scowled, "If you were farther away from hitting the ball, the bat would be a piano."

"Get rid off all my bathroom products to make room for all your others?"

"You're out. Great job. Your team just lost." He snapped, "You don't really think I would do that, do you?"

I was reminded, once again, that he had found those razors. I could hear the desperate tone in his voice, as if he thought if I didn't know he'd miss me I'd go kill myself.

"I'd _die._" He muttered lowly, "Homerun for Jake."

There he went again. He was making sure I knew it would hurt him, so I didn't do anything. How could I explain to him that I couldn't do that, just because I wouldn't be able to be without him? How could I ever tell him how much he meant to me?

And for a moment, I forget about that. And an unwelcome image came into my head. I was imagining it all being over, and never having to go through anything ever again.

"Nothing will happen to me," My voice was shaky with emotion, "Nothing."

Of course the moment I said that word, my whole fate changed. Because I had said nothing will happen, I knew something would.

And then he picked me up and pulled me into his lap. He cradled me like a small child, and I shamefully let a few tears leak into his shirt. This embrace hurt me. It didn't make the problems fade into the background like his touch usually did. It brought everything forward until it was squeezing the life out of me like a boa constrictor.

They say when you have a child you're making the decision to let part of your heart walk outside your body, and when they die, so does that part. How many chunks of a person's heart can go missing? How long can they limp through the world with just a small piece left? What if that that piece cared nothing about their own wellbeing, and only cared for the people around them?

It was then that the severity of the situation creeped upon me, and I realized what Jake was thinking and feeling at the moment.

If Luke was back in my life…if he had somehow not been as dead as I was told…I would die. I cared about nothing but the people around me. I could do fine living with the pain as long as I had my family. But if he came back and asked his favorite question (either you live, or they do) I would surely pick them. Because I had nothing left inside me but the people around me. If they were to die, I would die. They were the only reason I kept on breathing, the only reason I still had a piece of life left in my tired body. And I wouldn't be able to fight. When asked that question a decade earlier, I would have refused to answer. I would have fought him to keep both. In the end, I probably would have picked them. But I would have fought for both.

I can't fight anymore. I told Jake once that if I went through another miscarriage, I would die. The same principle applies here: I simply have no more to give. I don't think I have any strength inside me to fight with.

I've given and I've given but it's all been a waste. And now all I want to do is live my life with my family. I don't want to go through anymore pain. I want to know what it feels like to stand in the rain and actually feel the drops on my skin, opposed to numbly imagining what it would feel like. I want to know what it's like to be able to breathe easily for once in my life. I want to be able to inhale, and not feel a heavy weight crushing my lungs.

Is that too much to ask?

I don't want to fight with a murderer for a life that doesn't even belong to me anyway. My life is Jake's, and it's Cole's, and it's Oliver's and Emily's and my daddy's and my brother's and Lilly's. It's Lana's and my in-law's and my friend's. But it's not mine. And in a way, no matter how I die, it will be suicide. Because I did all this to myself. If I wouldn't have put myself through so much, I would be whole right now. I wouldn't be a fragment of the person I used to be. If I was whole again, I would have the strength to take on whatever was sent my way.

I am nothing.

"Promise me." His voice was strained as he held me to him.

I knew what he was asking. I knew what he wanted me to say I wouldn't do. But I couldn't promise that. Because then I would have no options. I would be trapped. And the only worse then being in terrible pain is the feeling of being trapped.

"I can't." I whispered, painfully.

"Yes you can," He argued. I kept my eyes shut. I didn't want to see his expression. His hands caressed over my face and I wanted to cry.

"No, I can't."

"Why?" His voice broke.

I opened my eyes. His green eyes met mine.

"Because I'm sick of being backed into empty corners. I've got one secret door, and that's it. I've told you that I can't take anymore. I can't be pushed any farther into that corner. And if I am…I just…I can't promise you I won't. I won't lie to you."

He held me so tightly it hurt.

"What are you saying? Are you saying you're going to do it? Is that what you are saying?" His voice was laced with panic. And once again, he held me as if I were a balloon filled with helium, ready to float off into the sky.

"No, I'm not! I don't want to be without you. I'm just saying that I can't promise you I won't die. Because I can't lie to you."

He shook his head, "I don't want you to promise me you won't ever die, just promise me you won't do it purposely."

And I stared at him for a long moment. I pulled myself out of his arms, and felt as if I were floating.

"What's the difference?"

He was silent, then he kissed my face as if that would make all the pain go away. I hated this. I hated how my day had gone from happy to horrible. He was shaking as he kissed my lips.

I kissed back until Melanie's words rang through my mind. _In a way…all men are rapists…_

That wasn't true. Jake wasn't like that. He loved me, no matter what Melanie said. I knew that. But then why did it bother me? I couldn't explain why her statement nailed me to wall.

And as our kissing progressed with a desperate note to it, I wondered if she was right. If all men were predators and woman were just prey that they sometimes got attached to. The idea sickened me. Her ideals sickened me.

I felt weak. So weak that I was surprised my neck could support my head. And for the first time during our marriage, I felt out of control when it came to my body. I knew it was just Melanie's words playing tricks on me, but I felt a different pair of hands touching me for a minute. And it was a horrible sixty seconds.

"No."

I whimpered the word on his lips. It was so quiet that I was sure only God could hear it, but yet it echoed loudly around the room. It held a raw, desperate tone to it that raised goosebumps on my skin. He jerked away from me as if he'd been electrocuted. I hated myself then. I hated that I used that tone to Jake. He was my husband. He wasn't a rapist. He didn't deserve to be treated that way. He didn't at all.

He stared at my face, as if waiting for me to say something. I couldn't say anything. If I opened my mouth, I was afraid I might hurl.

The seconds passed tersely, and he moved to his side of the bed. My heart felt empty, and I was ashamed of myself. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. His face was expressionless.

My breathing was labored as I stared up at the ceiling. My heart thudded viciously in my chest, and I felt tears enter my eyes. I felt cold without him. I thought about all the girls, myself included, that had tried that word without success. I always knew my line of work would affect me somehow. I just didn't expect it to affect me like this. Melanie was wrong. All men were not rapists. And I shouldn't have doubted my heart for one moment.

I rolled over on my side, facing the wall.

"No." I repeated softly, this time speaking directly to God.

I squeezed my eyes shut until I saw little white dots behind my lids.

"No." I repeated again, tears leaking out of my shut eyes.

I just had to know. I _had_ to know.


	14. Act

**A/n:** Hm...I wasn't too happy with this chapter. But uhh...yeah. So I hope some of you enjoy it, even through it's mediocre-ness. This chapter is a little graphic, so I remind all those reading that this is teen. Oh, also, anything you recognize from _Romeo and Juliet_ is not mine. It belongs to William Shakespeare exclusively. I just borrowed some lines from it. So once again, that is his work! I just pulled it out of my memory. Thanks so much for the amazing reviews, I'm going to try my best to reply to everyone of them this time. I know I'm so horrible about that, and I appologize again.

* * *

**"After a while, you just can't cry anymore. You just have to believe that what happens is what's supposed to happen, and, well, you can't change that, even if you tried. So just dry the tears, and hope that tomorrow will be a better day." --Unknown.**

* * *

_I was in a hospital room. It was the same exact room my mother was in before she passed. Except when I looked at the bed, it was not her in it. _

_"Jake…" I grabbed his hand in mine. He was completely still. I pressed my hand in his with more urgency. _

_"Jake." _

_I sat there and called his name over and over again with no response. It wasn't until later that I realized he wasn't dead. He was just pushing me away like I had done to him._

* * *

I jerked awake. The first thing I noticed was that it was much too early to be up. The moon was still bathing everything in a eerie, silver light.

I was breathing hard and sweating from my dream. I fought my way out of the blankets and leaned back against the headboard. I inhaled as quietly as possible and pressed my palm over my heart. It was beating like I'd just saw someone being murdered.

I stared at the wall. The silver paint had a sparkling sheen as the moonlight hit it. It wasn't like that in the day time. Did the moon everything better?

I glanced over at Jake. I wondered if he was sleeping well. His back was turned to me, and I could see the steady rise and fall of his profile as he breathed.

I felt like I was on the outside for a moment. I was so used to feeling his chest rise and fall, opposed to watching it from a distance. It was strange, and I didn't like it.

I reached down and pulled the blankets up over my legs. I smoothed my hands over the silk surface. And I thought. It seemed to me that Jake and I could never be happy for more then just a day at a time. Every time we were, something happened, and we weren't. I missed how we used to be. We used to be so happy all the time, and being together was enough to make us that way.

I frowned at that line of thought. Was being together not enough anymore? But then I re-thought it. Who was the one that usually caused all the unhappiness?

Me.

I found myself sliding over on the bed toward him. I placed my hand on his bare shoulder. His skin was warm underneath mine.

He turned over to look at me, looking very much awake. I took one look in the eyes that were my stars, and I started sobbing. He cautiously reached out for me, and I lay down in his arms. He wrapped them tightly around me and I cried.

"I'm sorry," I blubbered out from between my sobs, "I d-didn't mean to treat you like that. I-I love you."

His hand stroked my hair as my tears slid down his chest.

"It's okay. I understand." He said.

I wasn't sure if he really did, but I was so sick of the unhappiness that I was done with trying to fix things. If I was unhappy, I would keep my mouth shut. At least until things started getting better. And tomorrow when I went to work with him I was going to be the happiest person I could be.

By the time we drifted to sleep my eyes were red and sore, his chest was wet, and the sun was rising.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY

**COLE'S POV:**

I think, in a way, everyone has been through a phase where they wanted to be a shrink. I wanted to. But that was long before I realized the human mind is a screwed up place that I didn't want to venture to in any way or form. Then, I wanted to be a doctor. Surely human bodies weren't as screwed up as human minds! Of course, then I realized the irony of that thought. If I was examining a human body, it would be _because _something was screwed up. I went through a veterinary phase when I was younger. I read up on dogs, and worked to keep Moose as happy and healthy as possible. I like to think that I'm part of the reason he's still alive today. I didn't know I held a passion for art until later on in life.

I think everyone starts big, and then gets little. I don't mean size wise—I mean expectation wise. How often do you hear a child say "when I get older, I want to paint nails at the Quick Dry and work part time at Cut and Go While it Grows!"? You don't. When we're younger, we always see the world with amazing colors. We don't see the black, white, and shades of grey. We just see the rainbow spectresthat adults can not. We don't livelife by honest, teenage angst novels—we live it by our favorite fairy tale. We don't look at the world through a clear piece of glass; we see it through a stained glass window. Everything looks brighter and happier when we are naïve.

But when we stopped seeing the world for what it could be, and start seeing it for what it is, we see ourselves differently as well. Then we realize that as amazing as helping people mentally, physically, or emotionally sounds…it's not possible for everyone. The kid who swore he was going to be a world famous surgeon in kindergarten grows up to realize the sight of blood makes him nauseated. The child who wanted to be a dentist grows up and realizes that he can't even keep _himself _from getting cavities.

And that kid who wanted to be the shrink? He witnesses some shitty things, and he realizes that he's more screwed up then the people that would be coming to him for help. Want to know how he turns out? So do I.

I was pulled from my revere by the sound of something mushy being slung. I looked up to see the lunch lady piling some shit on my tan, plastic tray.

"What is this?" I asked her, not bothering to keep the disgust from my tone. She raised one bushy, un-kept silver eyebrow and scowled at me.

"It's _caviar_," She snapped nastily, "Now get! You're blocking the line!"

She turned her view from me. And for a minute, my anger shimmered into pity. I wondered what she had wanted to be when she was still looking through her stained glass window.

I shuffled forward through the line. I grabbed the customary—orange juice, a brownie, fried chicken, and fresh fruit. Once my school tray was filled, I waited in line for the cashier.

I felt someone slap me on the back. I turned around, partly agitated. Gavin Stephenson leered at me. His white teeth contrasted against his dark as midnight face, and he stood a foot higher then me. Sometimes he bugged me, but ultimately, he was my best friend.

"What's up, man?" His chipper voice called out, loud as usual. Gavin was a very optimistic person. Everything he did was loud and energetic. I wasn't exactly a very upbeat person, which is basically what caused most of the annoyance.

"Same as usual." I replied, deadpanned. I wasn't _always_ so boring…I guess. I've been told I'm pretty hilarious drunk, if that counts for anything.

One of the good things about Gavin was that he held enough conversation for two people. He didn't need any input from me to embark on an hour long tale of spending the night with his girlfriend in the back of the jeep. Of course, the story wasn't as scandalous as that may sound. They ended up playing _Monopoly. _I don't mean "monopoly"; I mean the real board game. Gavin wasn't the prune he probably sounded after that, he just really liked his girlfriend. I thought he was a damn idiot for it, too. She was just going to screw his life over. But he didn't care.

To some, love reestablishes that stained glass window. Me? I'd rather see the world as it is, with all the true colors intact.

I was next in line. I quickly told her my name and pushed my ID number in the keypad. She glanced up, to make sure it was really me. One thing I'd never have to worry about was someone stealing my account number. People have known my face since before I was one.

She nodded, and sent me on.

"I'll meet you at the table, Gav." I told him, before turning and walking away. Our school's lunchroom had two floors. The bottom floor was where the losers sat, the top was where the preps and goody-goods sat, and outside was where my people sat.

I descended the stairs slowly, careful not to drop the tray. I glanced behind me every three steps to make sure no one was following me. I turned the corner, and entered the cold area.

The downstairs used to be part of the school's basement. But part of the construction caved in a few years ago after a nasty earthquake, so they did some renovating and made the part that was caved in into the bottom floor of the cafeteria, got completely rid of the ceiling that was above the caved in part and used to be the floor of the microwaving room in the lunch room. Now we have this gigantic, stone stairwell that takes up the room and leads down into the bowels of the basement. The basement itself was moldy and the air was probably painted with carcinogenic toxins. The walls were concrete, and the floor was dirty white tile. The lighting was dim, and was a constant reminder that only the most socially unacceptable civilians ate their lunch down here.

I ignored the eyes of people as they absorbed me. _What is that rich boy doing down here? _They're probably thinking. I walked with my head held high, something my mother had taught me long, long ago.

Duck was sitting in the corner. He liked it there best. Why? I don't know. He would shove his chair into the corner and pull the table right up to his chest. He has been invisible to everyone since he moved here from Maine. Maybe that was how I first noticed him. It takes one to know one, right?

"Caden." Duck said in relief, when he saw me. I ignored the usage of my first name. He was the only one who didn't get socked because of it. Well, and I guess my parents. I wouldn't hit my parents.

I placed the tray down in front of him. He immediately reached for a piece of the fried chicken. His dirty fingers grasped the wing, and he sunk his lips into the meat. He chewed slowly. After his bite, he wiped his greasy mouth on his dirty shirtsleeve.

He turned his dark eyes up to me.

"Thank you." His voice was webbed with gratuity, but at the same time I could see that familiar shame lurking in his eyes.

Duck's family spent all their money sending him to school. They had dinner sometimes at his house, but Duck had three little sisters he adored. And many nights he would give his dinner to the three of them, so they would have something to fill their tiny stomach. He confided this in me last year, when I took the time to see the invisible. It started with me casually pushing my tray his way during lunch every other day. But then I'd go home and eat the food I was lucky enough to have, and just started giving him my tray every day. I always told him I brought my lunch, but I didn't. I wasn't that hungry during lunch anyway.

I usually sat with Duck while he ate, just to give him some company. You may think I did this just to be nice, but I'm not so kind. I'm not some kind of Robin Hood. I liked to hear about his life. His parents were happy, and he usually talked about how great it was to be a big brother.

I envied this dirty boy who sometimes went weeks on end eating just school lunch once a day five times a week. My parents tried to teach me that money didn't make a man, but it was hard to understand that when I could have anything I wanted growing up. They'd tell me that, but I never really believed it. Duck was the first person to make me realize that money can't buy you everything.

Duck was the first person to notice me.

Sure, I had my friends and my girls, but they didn't really notice me. I couldn't say some things to them that I could with Duck. They couldn't give me what Duck could. Duck gave me memories. He made me think about what life would have been like if I had two little sisters right now. And when he told his stories, I found myself putting myself in his face and that little baby in his sisters. It was the vague reality I needed.

He finished his lunch. I took the tray from him.

"Goodbye, Duck." I said.

He leaned back, relishing the feel of a full stomach.

"Goodbye, Caden."

I walked away. Once I was back upstairs, I started for the door that led outside.

"Cole!" A melodic voice sang. I turned around in spite of myself. Lila Brinkerhoff arched a perfect eyebrow and motioned for me to come with her finger. I didn't want to, but of course I did.

I stood behind her chair. And almost immediately, my bad mood melted. Women had that effect on a man. It was almost impossible to not feel happy in their presence. And I don't mean it _that _way. Although sometimes it was hard that way too, I guess.

I smiled at her, and all her friends seated around the table.

"Ladies," I nodded at the girls. I turned to Lila, "You called me?"

She turned her head around and smiled at me in that seducing way of hers. She reached her arm back and took my hand in her small, soft one.

She pulled on my hand.

"Sit with me…" She whined. I was about to protest, but her hand massaged gently against mine. I tried to keep a hold of myself and sat down. Unfortunately, the seats were a smidgen closer then I had counted on them being. Her soft, thick hair rubbed against my arm as she turned head to tell her friend something.

She laughed at her friend, and then turned to me. Her large, cinematic eyes drew me in as I stared back. I searched for something in them. Regret, maybe. But I didn't see _anything_. Not a damn thing.

It wasn't the fact that my girlfriend held nothing for me anymore that screwed me so bad. It was the fact that when I looking into a darker pair of eyes, I did feel something.

Her voice was low.

"How about we meet on the beach again tonight?"

The implications were heavy in her voice.

_When I laid her down, a breeze tousled our hair. The dark waves gently rolled to the shore, and no one walked on the pier above us. It was silent except for our breathing. The full moon winked at us it seemed. I looked down at her. Her chest was heaving as she stared at me, waiting. She wanted me, and I wanted her. She loved me; I loved what she was going to do to my life. Screw it over. Too late to go back now. It's too late. But it's always been, hasn't it?_

"No." I blurted out, a little more harshly then I intended.

Her face crumpled. Her friends pretended to not be listening, but we all knew they were.

"What? Why?"

I had so many things I wanted to say to her. Because I don't love you, because I regret what we did that night, because I don't want to hurt you anymore, because things will never be the same, because you've already screwed my life over…because you're not Emily.

I shoved the last reason into the back of my mind.

When I didn't answer, her eyes filled with tears.

"It's going to go back to how it was, Cole. I swear it will! We'll forget what happened in no time!"

I shook my head slowly.

"I can't, Lila. I'm sorry."

There was a long pause. I expected her to hit me for a moment, but when she didn't, I thought she was giving me the cold shoulder.

She turned her face forward and stared at the wall. She breathed almost as heavily as she did that night for a moment, and then she whispered something.

"Fuck you." She whispered so softly I wasn't sure if I heard it. Then, she said it louder, "_Fuck. You." _

I've been cursed out before, but this angered me more. I'm not sure why, but hearing it come from her lips angered me. I guess I always wished the last thing I could hear from her lips was her loving voice, not this one laced with hatred. But that was a wish someone who looked through stain glass windows would wish for.

I stood up. I ignored the aching in my heart. I leaned down to her ear.

"Looks like you already did," I hissed.

I turned on my heel, and stormed off. I shoved the door open, and sat down on the picnic benches beside Gavin. All the guys looked at my angered expression.

"What's wrong with you, Ryan?" Michael asked, "Lila refuse to give anymore?"

The guys laughed at their joke while I fumed. I decided to let them think whatever the hell they wanted.

_No, _I wanted to say, _I've just refused to take anymore. _

I stared at the sky, and decided what I needed. I needed to get a tattoo on my forehead that said "Caden Cole Ryan: Fourteen-Year-Old Pimp, Drunk, Smoker, Parent-Hater, Supposed-To-Be-Teen-Parent Invisible Lost Cause." That way I could warn everyone before they decided to come and try to love me.

I leaned my elbows on the table. I wasn't feeling very well all the sudden.

A soft sigh made me look up. There was a girl staring awkwardly at the seat available beside Gavin. I recognized her immediately. Her name was Raine, and she had a severe learning disorder. People made fun of her constantly, and called her Retarded Raine. I never did.

Raine took one more look at us, and walked away to a different table. She sat down with the cheerleaders. At least most of them would try to pretend they were good people by only talking about her behind her back.

I found it slightly sickening that Raine—a girl who didn't have enough sense to know how to tie a knot—knew that she should stay away from me and my crew. I guess it's just an instinct you're born with.

I felt like Hitler for a moment when he marched into Russia. He had been so certain he could achieve what Napoleon could not, that he ignored the fact that history was probably just going to repeat itself. He felt that he was invincible, in so many words. So he marched everyone into Russia. And what did the Russians do? The same thing they did to Napoleon. The Scorched-Earth policy. They burned everything in Hitler's path, so his soldiers starved. The ones who didn't starve froze to death in the frigid snow. Then, when he finally managed to march some troops into Leningrad and Stalingrad, the Russians were there waiting for them. The Germans were starving, freezing, and angered at Hitler. Who do you think won?

In a way, I was Hitler. I believed that all these horrible choices I've been making will help me in the future, and that I could earn the affection from being a rebel that I wasn't able to get as myself. By the time I realized my path was burned, and my choices were the frigid snow freezing me, it was too late to go back. So now I'm marching on, dealing with what I've done and the decisions I've made. And sometime down this path, I'm going to make a decision and part of me is going to want to go the other, while the other heads in the opposite direction. And then, these sides will conflict with the things standing in my way. Leningrad was my parents, and Stalingrad was Emily. I would have to face them both eventually, and when I did, it wasn't going to come out that great.

* * *

**MILEY'S POV:**

Jake was an acting coach.

He owned, ran, and taught the school. It was a competition, kind of like _American Idol_ or _So You Think You Can Dance?. _Those who had great acting abilities auditioned to come. If they made it, they started training. After a year of training, there was a competition. Ten students who were _the best _were chosen to be in the most advanced course. Jake taught the most advanced course, and helped them get a start in the acting industry. Almost all of the most 

famous actors in Hollywood right now were the actresses and actors hand picked by my Jake, and taught by him.

I'd never been to one of his classes before. I don't know why really, we just never found a reason for me to go. He's never been to my center either, though. But that's mostly just because we try to frown upon men entering the building, no matter how trusting they are.

Jake pulled into his reserved parking spot, and turned the car off. I reached for the door handle, but he stopped me.

"Before you go in here…I need to warn you. Some of the people in here are…eccentric. Don't get offended by anything they say." He said slowly.

I turned this information around in my head. I nodded.

"Got it. Now, can we go?!"

Needless to say, I was excited. The prospect of seeing him at his job had considerably cheered me up from the emotional rut I'd been in last night. In fact, I was feeling pretty good today. Jake seemed to have forgotten the embarrassment from last night, and I felt closer to him then ever before. Well, closer to him then I'd felt in a long time. Jake smiled at my enthusiasm, and nodded. We got out of our respectable doors, and I jumped like a little child toward the entrance. Jake's laugh echoed around me, and he grabbed my hand in his. They fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces. And just like a puzzle, when he grabbed my hand, the whole picture was clearer. I wasn't sure if we were just made with hands that fit together, or if we had held them so long that they just molded to each other. Either worked for me.

He opened the door for me. I walked in, and he followed me. The room we walked into was his office. I wasn't sure why we didn't go in from the main entrance, but I didn't feel like pondering that fact.

Jake's office was homey. The walls were a dark red, the desk was glass with a frosted silver base, his chair was big, leather, black and spinney, the computer was top of the line, and the floor was a lush white carpet. A black leather sofa was on the wall adjacent to his desk.

"Ooh…" I said as I collapsed on the sofa, "I like it."

He smiled and sat beside me, "I do too."

I'd been in his office before, but that was back before he remodeled it. It was more minimalistic before.

He wrapped his arms around me, and I leaned back against him. He pressed his face into my hair, and I brought his hand to my mouth and kissed it. He pulled his hand away, and grasped my face with them. He gently tipped my head back, and kissed me.

I'm not sure how long we sat there kissing. Must have been longer then we thought, because the next thing I was aware of other then Jake, was his office door being thrown open.

"I actually _have _my props today, Mr. Jake Ryan! Can you beli- _AHHH!!_"

Okay, so maybe it was a little more then just kissing. Kissing and roaming hands. But that's it, I swear.

The moment that shrill scream came, we jerked apart as if it had been our own child who caught us. I flew off the sofa and landed (painfully) on my rear. Jake jumped up, and then sat down in embarrassment for certain reasons that only a boy would be able to sympathize with him over.

I looked up in the doorway to see the girl howling in laughter. She looked around twelve, and was finding our embarrassment pretty damn funny.

"Alina! What did I say about knocking?!" Jake tried to sound professional and strict, but his voice was strained. This made the girl, Alina, laugh harder and I even started to giggle along.

"Yeah, yeah," Jake cried angrily, "Let's all make fun of Jake! Ha, ha, ha! This is _so _fun! I kill myself!"

I suddenly felt bad. I stopped laughing and climbed carefully to my feet. I sat beside him and pulled him to me.

"Aw…I'm not making fun of you, Jake. I'm laughing with you."

He grumbled underneath his breath and looked away from me.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Alina leave, shutting the door behind her.

"I'm sorry!" I apologized, trying my best to look as sincere as possible. He huffed, and crossed his arms over his chest.

I leaned in.

"I really am sorry. I'll make it up to you." I whispered in what I hoped was a sad, regretful voice.

Suddenly, he wrapped an arm around my waist and put the other underneath my thigh. He lifted me up and moved me over on his lap, so I was facing him and my legs were around him.

"You remember when you fell on Oken, and I untangled you?" He asked me, staring into my eyes.

I nodded.

"I never got my reward." He pouted. I smiled and leaned over to him.

"Well, we'll have to see about that, now won't we?" I whispered into his ear.

He pressed his face into my chest, over my collarbone.

"I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but you've been driving me crazier then usual." He moaned against my skin, "You drove me crazy before, but now I can barely control myself in public."

I ran my hands through his hair slowly, hiding a smirk. "Is that a bad thing?"

He shook his head, and in the same fluid moment, brushed his lips along my collarbone.

"God, no. The opposite actually."

I grinned wickedly, "And just so you know…" I leaned back into him, and I moved my hand around his back and reached up his shirt. I gently trailed my hand up the length of his spine, enjoying the way his body reacted. I let my fingernails graze the length down, and he shivered underneath me, "I think your professional voice is sexy."

He was about to respond when a knock on the wall stopped him.

"Hey, Mrs. Jake Ryan, I'm sure you aren't helping Jake's current ailment by doing whatever you're doing in there." A male voice shouted, then laughter.

That's all it really took to ruin the mood. Kids. I reluctantly pulled myself off him, and he scowled.

"That's it," he murmured, "Failing grades for all of them. Let's see then laugh at that when their teenybopper asses are stuck in the house all summer."

I laughed and grabbed his hand. I tugged on his arm, and he stood up. Then, he sat back down.

"Yeah, I can't go out there." He said.

I studied his current problem and agreed.

"You're right, you can't."

I sat back down beside him and reached over to kiss him. He moved away.

"Honestly Miley, how do you except me to calm down with you doing that? Why don't you go out there and tell them to practice their scenes like hell and get their costumes ready." He suggested.

I frowned.

"I guess I could…" I muttered unwillingly, "What makes you think they'll listen to what I say?"

He smiled, "You're famous. They're going to do whatever you tell them to."

"You're famous too." I pointed out.

"But they're used to me. I'm old news now. You're not though…so just go out there and treat them like toddlers." He smiled. I nodded, and then stood up.

"'Kay. Toddlers. Got it."

I stared at the door, nervously moving from foot to foot.

He groaned, "You moving your hips like that is not helping anything. To go out there you have to move forward."

I laughed quietly in spite of myself. I knew this probably was as equally humiliating to him as forgetting you're on your period and swimming anyway would be to me. I tried to keep that in mind as I walked toward the door, trying my best to walk like a robot. I heard him chuckle behind me.

And that's all it took to get my laughter going again. Smirking, I couldn't keep my genius plan out of my head. I turned around quickly and ran back over to him.

"Wha—"

I hitched up my dress so it was out of the way and sat back down on his lap facing him. Then, I kissed him long and hard until I got a response, and then I jumped back up and ran to the door.

"You're _evil_!" I heard him yell after me as I sprinted through the door, laughing.

My laughter faded as I stared into the face of ten people who were smirking at me. I nervously smoothed my dress and hair, making sure I looked okay.

One girl started breathing really strange. I looked at her.

"A-a-ahh….Oh…my…gosh…you….are….you're…."

Then, she fainted.

I gasped, and quickly jumped down on the floor beside her body.

All the others were just rolling their eyes.

"Don't mind Megan. She's a spaz. She faints over everything. She'll come to it in a minute." A boy who was about twenty said. He held out his hand, and I took it. He pulled me to my feet. He shook my hand.

"I'm David Felistics."

I smiled, "I'm Mil—"

The boy to David's right rolled his eyes, "We know who you are. Even if the press hadn't mentioned you about eighteen million times in one magazine every day over the past twenty-something years, Jake talks about you all the time. It gets kind of boring after a while. Although sometimes the stories are good, but most the time they're not."

I turned to David, "What kind of stuff does he say? Good stuff?"

He smiled, "Of course. And don't mind him—" He jerked a thumb at the boy on his right "—that's Andrew. He's rude. And the boy to Andrew's right is Bad Joke Benny—"

I interrupted David.

"Bad Joke Benny?" I questioned.

They all looked at each other and groaned. I noticed that Alina and Megan were the only girls in this group. The other eight were boys.

Bad Joke Benny stepped forward. He looked about seventeen or eighteen, and his skin was very tan. His hair was dark and layered.

"Hello, mademoiselle," He said nicely. He took my hand and kissed the back of it politely. I was stumped. Why was he Bad Joke Benny?

I found out soon enough.

"I've got an algebraic equation for you, bella." Ice cold blood pumped through my veins. _Bella_. My baby. My daughter. My _dead daughter_. It took me too long to realize that he was referring to the Italian word that meant beautiful. But the nauseated feeling had taken over my body. I tried 

to swallow the hurt. He hadn't meant it that way. He didn't mean to slice open my scar. _But he still did_, my heart argued softly.

Just when I thought I was going to lose it, I felt Jake's hand take mine, as it always did when I was on the edge of going insane. I relaxed, but my heart stayed aching.

"Okay, shoot." I replied.

"Me plus you equals sixty-nine." He smirked. All the boys behind him groaned as they heard this stupid pickup line. It took me a minute to get it, but when I did, I wished I hadn't.

My face flushed. Jake was about to yell at him, when I surprised both of us.

"Actually, Benny, I believe you have the wrong value for x. That's not a true statement, therefore; I think you should recheck your equation and redo the math." I smiled sweetly.

Alina and Megan (who recently sat up rubbing her head) both started laughing, shortly followed by all the guys minus Benny.

He grinned at me.

"Ooh, you've got a sharp tongue, huh? That's okay. We can work around that."

"Sorry, I don't think we can."

"Baby, I may not be Fred Flintstone, but I bet I can make your Bed Rock."

I turned my head away as I tried to think of a comeback. Jake beat me to the chase.

"Benny, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't verbally harass my wife. Please and thank you."

Benny frowned, "Oh come on, Ryan. It's just innocent fun. Besides, I haven't seen a girl this witty with such a great—"

Jake interrupted him.

"Okay Benny, I want you three feet away from my wife for this whole class."

Everyone laughed, including me. He raised his eyebrows.

"You think I'm kidding."

He walked toward Benny.

"Go on," He said, "Walk backwards."

Benny frowned and started backing up. He started a little ways back. Jake shook his head.

"Nope. That's not far enough. Farther."

"Aww, Jake! Come on! I can't reach her from here!" Benny whined.

"But you can verbally harass her. Move. _Now_."

Benny grumbled as he moved away from us.

Jake sighed and squeezed my hand before letting go. He moved to the center of the room. I took the time to look around for the first time. It was humongous and had blue carpet, white walls, and some tables against the wall, a small platform stage, and a whiteboard. I got a mental image of Jake standing in front of the whiteboard with an Expo marker teaching and couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay," Jake's voice rang through the room, "Today's performance day. I hope you all have your props, costumes, and know your lines. Because if you don't, I _will _fail you."

He sounded so serious…so professional, that I found myself soaking up his words. The ten shifted nervously.

"Ahh, I can already see that you don't have your props, Tim. Why not?" Jake demanded, singling him out from the group. The boy—Tim—looked to be in his early teens. He flushed.

"Well, you see sir, my mom drove off— "

Jake held up a hand.

"Don't blame this on your parents, Tim. You say your mom drove off with them?"

Tim nodded nervously.

Jake walked toward him.

"Then the correct thing would be to say 'Mr. Ryan, I forgot to grab my props this morning' wouldn't it?"

Tim nodded again.

"Right. Now try again." He said. I blinked. I never expected him to be such a…_harsh _teacher.

Tim shifted. "Mr. Ryan, I was drinking last night so I was scatterbrained this morning and totally forgot my props in my mother's car. I'm sorry. May I make up my grade tomorrow?"

"Yes, you may." Jake said. Tim let out a gust of air.

He turned back to the group.

"True actors are _always _prepared. If you have a passion for something, you give it your all. Not a penny less. If you aren't giving acting your all, you don't need to be doing it. Is that understood?"

"Yes," The class chorused, me included. I caught a slight smile on his face when he saw me respond, but then it was gone.

"First up, I want Megan and Benny. What scene are you doing?" He questioned.

Megan scrambled to grab their props and costumes while Benny answered Jake, "We're doing act two, scene two from _Romeo and Juliet." _

He smiled.

"Ah, Shakespeare. As you continue your acting career, you will learn that Shakespeare is the worst challenge for any actor. Few manage to capture it. I took a class on Shakespearean language once, and let me tell you this, if you knew what Romeo and Juliet were _really _saying to each other, you'd be red in the face."

Everyone laughed.

"Romeo was a cradle-snatcher." I sang. They all looked at me, and those who knew _Romeo and Juliet_ laughed.

I hadn't seen Megan and Benny leave, but the next thing I knew they were on stage in their Shakespearean clothing. I remembered having to do this with Oliver in middle school (except a different scene), and I was so glad that it wasn't me up there.

"Are you ready?" Jake asked them.

Benny scampered off the stage, and Megan sat down on the edge of the platform. I supposed the platform was supposed to be the balcony.

"Ready…action!" Jake exclaimed. Everyone fell silent. I watched Benny sneak up slowly to the 'balcony'.

His face was covered in believable love.

"_But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes_…" Benny spoke.

I thought it was very good. I actually, for once, understood to a certain degree what Romeo was saying. Once Romeo's monologue was over, I watched Megan. After her input, Romeo ranted some more.

Then, Megan said the famous line.

"_O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet_." Her voice was so sincere, so serious.

I looked at Jake. Surely he was feeling prideful right now? But his mouth was set in a hard line. And I watched his expression get even stonier as the skit went on.

When it was done, we all clapped from the audience.

Everyone watched Jake tersely.

He took a step forward.

"Megan," His voice was steady, "Would you mind telling me what exactly the problem is?"

She blanched.

"I…um…problem, sir?"

He nodded slowly.

"Yes…you could do so much better then that. I don't understand. You were our best Shakespearean actor just last week."

She shrugged, "I…uh…don't know. What was wrong with it, sir?"

He shook his head. There was a long pause.

"Miley?" He asked, without looking at me.

"Yes?" I asked quietly.

"Could you come here for a moment?" He asked.

This time _I _blanched.

"Oh…I'd rather not Jake." I flushed red.

He turned his face to mine, his eyes blazing.

"Please?" He asked.

I uncrossed my arms and unwillingly walked over there.

"Dammit." I muttered underneath my breath.

I stood in front of him. I thought about messing with him again, just to make him forget about Shakespeare, but I figured I'd best let him to his job or he'd never let me come again.

He looked at me, "Do you know this play?"

"I…uh…some of it." I admitted.

He nodded, "Good."

He turned to the group.

"Miley and I are going to demonstrate this scene. I want you to watch, and learn." He snapped.

I immediately drew back from him. I didn't want him judging me like he judged them.

"I don't want to," I whispered, "I'm not an actress."

He leaned forward to whisper back.

"That's the _point_." He said, "I'm trying to show them that physical attraction and chemistry is what makes it work."

"They've already seen a good enough display of physical attraction today," I grumbled. But as I did, I moved back toward him.

He grinned at me before turning the audience.

"Okay, here we go. Act two, scene two of _Romeo and Juliet_.

"ACTION!" Benny imitated Jake, raising laughter from everyone.

Except Jake. He was in the zone. His eyes bore into mine.

"_But, soft_!" His voice was just as soft as it crashed over me like the waves in the ocean, "_What light through yonder window breaks?" _

He said it as if he'd just finished kissing me, only to find a new ticklish spot on my body. "What's this?" He would ask in a voice that feigned amazement and luckiness. And for a moment, I felt like that was what he said. He was right. When the chemistry was there, the fancy words didn't matter. It was the infliction, and the person.

"_It is the east, and Juliet is the sun_."

Again, memories of that same tone and infliction crawled up me and latched on. In my memory, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him. His lips press to my ear as he whispers, "You are more important then the air that I breathe. Without you, I would die."

_My God, _I thought, _my husband of almost fifteen years is making me fall in love with him again through Shakespearean language. _

It took me a while to realize he was almost done with his monologue.

"_See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!_"

He might as well have just whisked me back to eight years ago. He was gone in England for a movie premiere, and I hadn't seen him in two weeks. We were on the phone, and he whispers, "If I was there right now, I'd take you in my arms and kiss you like you've never been kissed before."

I repeated the small line I have, and listened to him tell our whole love story in front of the audience in so many words.

I didn't take me long to think of the line. It was there all along. I try to do for him what he's done for me…

"_O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo_?"

I felt as if I was back in that dreaded hospital. "Why, Jake?" I had cried, "Why does it have to be this way? Why does this happen to us…" And that's what Juliet is asking her Romeo. Why, she 

wants to know, why do you have to be my family's moral enemies? Why can't love be simple? Why can't we just be together, and be happy?

I'd never related more to Juliet then that moment.

"_Deny thy father and refuse thy name_!" I breathed. Yes, if I was Juliet, I would have given it all up for Romeo if only they felt the same degree of love as Jake and I did. I'm suddenly back in the darkness, whispering that I'll give Jake anything he wants as long as he stays with me forever.

"_Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet_." Or, "I swear I love you with everything inside me. If you were to leave me, Jake, I would no longer be me."

I expected Jake to go on, but he didn't. His eyes just stared into mine, as if he'd seen something marvelous there that he had never noticed before. I stared back into his, trying to find something amazing too. But there was nothing else to find. He needed no more magic, he was already perfect.

"W-o-w."

Jake reached forward, and his fingertips were shaky. His hand grazed my cheek in a way that suggested he didn't believe I was solid. Butterflies attack my stomach.

"Ours sucked, Benny!" I heard Megan whine at Benny.

"Well they're professional, Morgan! What do you expect?" He snapped back.

Jake and I smiled carefully at each other. We were professionals alright. Professionals at being together and understanding each other…professional at loving each other. But that was it.

"I'm not an actress." I said to them, but kept my eyes on Jake.

Suddenly, the sound of a phone ringing broke our trance.

David blushed guiltily and turned his phone off. I looked at everyone.

"There's no way she's not an actress. That's bull shit." Rude Andrew snapped.

Jake frowned, "Oh yeah? Go check her record. She's been in a few episodes, and a movie, but that's about it."

"But," Megan's voice was soft, "how'd you do that?"

Jake turned to his class.

"I was trying to prove a point to you people. Yes, you've got amazing acting skills. But for something like Shakespeare, the only things you need to be great are chemistry with your partner, and understand of the dialogue. Megan, Benny, while your acting was phenomenal you lacked the chemistry and understanding it takes to pull off the scene. Pack up your stuff and take a seat now."

"I hate him though!" Megan grumbled, as she pointed an accusing finger at Benny, "You paired me with him! How can you have chemistry with random people? That's your friggin' wife. Of course you're gonna have chemistry. It's not fair!"

Jake scowled.

"Do you think for one moment you're going to get to pick your co-star in a movie or TV show? No. You'll have to kiss, touch, and love someone who you probably don't love and you'll have to have chemistry about it. That's why I chose your partners. I'd never be able to do that again if I was paired with anyone else, but you better believe I'd do a hell of a job imitating it! When it's not real, you fake it. That's acting. You don't just not fake it when you don't have chemistry. Either you're lucky and you have it, or you don't and you fake it. But you can't go up and do a love scene without it. It's like walking naked in the grocery store."

"Whatever." Megan huffed as she stormed off stage. Benny was pushing his way toward me.

"I bet my tongue can—"

Jake sighed.

"_Three feet_, Benny."

Benny rolled his eyes and walked away.

"What's next?" Jake asked.

Everyone shrank away.

"Come on, I'm not that scary am I?" He asked.

They all simultaneously nodded their heads.

He threw up his hands, "Fine! But we're doing these tomorrow! Start practicing!" He huffed.

His hand grasped mine and he pulled me with him to his office. He opened the door, shut it, and locked it. He pulled me back to the couch and I got in my previous position.

I pressed my lips to his neck.

"You're quite the teacher," I muttered, "I even learned quite a lot from that."

His teeth grazed down the length of my neck. I shivered pleasantly in his arms, and wondered if our relationship had really had a complete turnaround from the dead end we were at. If anyone ever tells you that teenagers fool around more then married couples, they're lying. When you are young you spend all your time trying to get to know this person mentally and physically. But when you've been married for such a long time, you already know everything about them mentally and physically so you can just enjoy each other. When you're young you have to wonder what they are thinking, but soon you get to a point when you can look at their face and know what they think.

"_How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears!"_ He crooned into my ear. He kissed me deeply, as I him.

"I wish we weren't here," I found myself saying wistfully, "with all those children outside the door. If we weren't…"

His hands stroked my stomach underneath my dress. He rested his head between my breasts and breathed deeply.

"_Sweet, so would I: Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing_." He recited from memory. In the heat of the moment, I could still appreciate his memory and acting abilities.

He listened to my heart thumping frantically. His hot breath blew against the skin that was exposed over my blue, white, black and yellow floral Jersey sundress, and brought goose bumps up on my skin. I braided my hands in his hair.

"_Come to thy heart as that within my breast_!" I recited more to myself then anything, smiling slightly at the irony. His lips curved up also.

"_And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, with repetition of my Romeo's name_…" He whispered sensually into my skin. I felt my breath catch as his hands traced upward from my stomach.

"You're right," I whispered, "Shakespeare was a perv."

His hands lingered on my chest from underneath my dress.

"Are you sure we can't?" His voice was deep.

I sighed, "_If_ _they do see thee, they will murder thee_." I recited.

He pulled the top of my dress down a little more, exposing more skin. He kissed me softly.

"Damn Shakespeare." He groaned into my goose bumped skin, "He knew his shit."

He stopped for a moment to think. I was beginning to feel a little left out of this risqué playing. Without really thinking about it, I had his shirt off him.

"_For_ _stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do that dares love attempt_…" He thought, "What _is _Shakespeare trying to say? He contradicts himself."

My hands rubbed up the chest I had memorized.

"He's not saying anything," I whispered as I kissed the top of his chest, "He's dead."

"_I must be gone and live, or stay and die."_ Jake recites. "How ironic. In the end, he does the opposite than what he says. He stays with her forever, by dying instead of leaving and living."

I shut him up by kissing softly down his chest. By the time I was at his navel, we were both so far gone I couldn't remember my own name. I tried to grasp at the threads of sanity that had somehow gotten clouded. _This _is the relationship I recognize. These are the people I know. The two that love each other no matter what, the two that can crack jokes at any time, the two that know each others deepest, darkest secrets but never use that against the other, the two that can get so far gone like this. It's something not even alcohol could ever do. I didn't recognize the other two who fought all the time. They were strangers to me.

Most of our clothes are heaped at the floor when the phone rings.

Jake ignores it at first, decorating me with kisses. His favorite spot is where my bullet scar is. He told me once that it showed I was a survivor. I told him once that it showed I'd been through shit.

When it rings again, I stop kissing him.

"Jake? What if something happened?" I asked nervously. He pauses in kissing the scar on my back.

"They'll leave a message."

And sure enough, there was a message.

"Hello Mr. Ryan. This is Nurse Winters. Your son is in my office. He is not feeling well at all, and has a very high temperature. I was wondering if it was at all possible for you to come pick him up..."

I was already halfway across the room. I picked up the receiver.

"Yes," I flushed realizing how out of breath I was, "We'll be there as soon as possible."

There was a pause.

"Is this Mrs. Ryan?" The nurse asked.

"Yes." I replied.

"Your son wanted me to get you here especially. He's been asking for you."

My heart swelled. Asking for me? I suddenly felt so guilty. He had said he was feeling better this morning, so I assumed he would be alright to go to school. I shouldn't have made him go.

"He was asking for me?" I breathed, astonished.

"Yes. He kept telling me to call you. It's always nice to hear of teenagers that still love their parents."

"Well, can you tell him something for me?" I asked, finally wondering if I'd be able to get the words out.

"Sure." In the background, I could hear someone yelling something and a child crying. I wondered if it was _my _child. And that very thought made me ache. And just as I was ready to tell her to tell him, the line went dead. I held it to my face all the same, as the line beeped in my ear.

"Can you tell him that I love him?"


	15. Betray

**A/n: **Sorry it took so long. I had writers block, and my Carpal Tunnel is flaring up. Thank you so much for the reviews. You all are seriously completely amazing! Also, please no one take any offense to the view on abortion expressed in this chapter. The opinion was based solely on what I believe Miley would have believed after what she had been through.

* * *

**"Love is whatever you can still betray. Betrayal can only happen if you love." -- John LeCarre**

* * *

"I hate going in here." I mumbled as I stared up at the leering building.

Jake put the car in park and let it idle.

"Oh come on, your high school experience wasn't that bad. Well, the parts I was there that is. I imagine it was pure torture those months I was gone."

I sighed and undid my seatbelt.

"Always so modest…" I muttered underneath my breath. Jake laughed and climbed out of the car. Right as my hand touched my door handle, Jake was pulling it open.

I looked at him suspiciously and swung my legs out of the car. He offered his hand but I stayed sitting in the seat.

"What?" His face was the picture of innocence.

"What do you want?" I asked.

He raised his eyebrows.

"I have to want something to be courteous to my wife?"

I placed my hand in his and let him help me out of the car. We stood in silence and stared up at Sea View High. I wasn't sure which memory was running through his mind, but I knew which one was running through mine.

"Might as well get this over with." He sighed.

He started walking forward, but I stayed glued to the ground. He tugged on my hand.

"It's not that bad," He said in a soothing voice, "They can't say shit to us. We aren't students. We're the parents."

I sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out.

"Okay. Let's go."

It wasn't that I had a phobia of the building; I just wasn't very partial to it. I dreaded signing Cole up for school each year, and student parent conferences…anything that brought me there again. Sure it had undergone many renovations since my years there, but it still linked me to the girl I used to be.

"What is _that?_"

I looked up at the disgust in Jake's voice. He stopped walking and brought me to a halt beside him. He was pointing at a concrete building with no windows. I was about twelve yards from school building, a good ways out. I could see the frame of the rest of the building being built, and various construction workers were littering the area.

My nose scrunched up as I read the plague on the wall.

"It's the 'Quarantine room'…"

Jake was strolling toward the building with long strides by the time I finished my sentence.

"Hey!"

I ran to catch up with him. I had to jog to keep up.

"Where are you going?" I panted.

"To see what the hell they are doing in there. They better not be putting our son in that modern dungeon. I'll sue."

"Be realistic, Jake. You can't sue them unless they are harming the kids."

I had my eyes trained on his face and I wasn't watching where I was running to at all. So I didn't see the concrete wall I was about to run smack into.

Jake stopped in front of the establishment, and as almost a reflex, flung his arm out to stop me from running into the side of the concrete building. I ran into his arm and he curled his fingers around my forearm to steady me. The anger in his eyes melted a bit as he laughed and looked at me. I felt a little dazed.

"I swear…sometimes I think if I wasn't there to be your eyes you'd be blind." He laughed again at my expression.

"God I love you." He laughed again before kissing the top of my head.

I smiled brightly at him and shook my head again.

"If you weren't there I'd do more harm to myself than most people thought possible…I'd probably walk off a building…"

His laugh made my smile widen. Nothing felt better then making him laugh.

"Somehow, I believe that."

I reached out and grabbed the doorknob to the metal door of the building.

"Are we allowed to do this?" I whispered hesitantly.

"I don't see why the hell not. We have a right to see what's going on at this school."

"But we don't have those visitor-pass things…" I muttered. He shrugged and gently pried my fingers off the handle. He placed his on there and pulled it back.

A gust of cool air surrounded us.

"Geez! Are they turning them into student-popsicles?" I murmured as I rubbed my bare arms.

It was dark in the concrete room. I squinted and tried to see. But even the sunlight we were letting in revealed nothing.

"I think we should go. There's no one here—"

Suddenly, a soft snicker emitted from the darkness. I stopped mid-sentence and Jake edged closer. All of the sudden, this didn't feel right to me. I got that feeling in the pit of my stomach that made me unnecessarily wary.

I grabbed his bicep.

"Come on Jake, let's go. I don't like this." I whispered. I pulled on his arm.

He placed his hand over mine, but edged forward nonetheless.

"Jake…" I shifted from foot to foot in uneasiness.

"Shhhh…" He whispered lowly.

I fell silent. There was a whisper, ever so soft, from somewhere near us. I couldn't make out what is said, but it was creepy enough to give me goosebumps.

"Please tell me that was you," I breathed.

Jake shook his head.

"Who's there?" He called loudly. His voice rang off the walls and echoed around us. I couldn't help but think that was the common scary movie flaw the characters make. Calling out 'Who's there?' or 'Is anyone there?'.

He moved into the doorway of the building and I whimpered.

"Jake…please come back!" I hissed. He edged forward even more.

"Mr. and Mrs. Ryan! What a pleasant surprise!"

The voice was loud and made me jump. I spun around in fright only to find myself face to face with the principal.

He was watching Jake.

"Best come out of there, Mr. Ryan. No telling what creatures are crawling around."

Jake walked slowly back over beside me. The principal smiled.

"Some of the school property was bought by a residential company. They are starting construction to their building, as you can see."

Jake looked politely interested, but I could tell he was masking his suspicion.

"Oh. Well what kind of "residential company" has a Quarantine room?" He jerked his thumb at the plague on the wall.

The principal's face looked at ease, but I saw his fists clench nervously.

"We aren't sure. Everything is under wraps."

I felt eyes on the back of my neck.

"So for all you know it could be a slaughter house?"

The back of my neck prickled. I edged closer to Jake.

"Of course not! They were rumors that it is going to be a…uh…toothpaste factory."

Someone was behind me. I could feel it.

"Why would a toothpaste factory need a Quarantine room?"

The sun was shinning on my head, but I felt cold. My heart was beating too fast.

"Look, I'm not sure. The man offered the school board more money then all the property is worth, and we are in a tough time. We can barely afford to keep all the teachers employed. We needed the money. We weren't doing anything with the property anyway."

I tensed my body up in response to the immediate threat. I tried to convince myself I was letting my imagination run loose. But I was feeling sicker and more frightened as the seconds ticked by. I was lightheaded and sick to my stomach. And the moment something brushed my shoulder from behind, I felt all the blood draw from my face. I wanted to scream, but I kept my mouth clamped shut. I couldn't find it in me to make a sound.

"Hey, is she okay?" I could hear the principal's voice, but it sounded far away.

I felt Jake grabbed my upper arms before my knees gave out. The last thing I thought was maybe it was actually possible to die from fright. The last thing I felt was the lingering hand disappear, and a laugh bounce around my head.

* * *

"…probably overheated. It's a hot day. Has she eaten anything this morning? It could even be sun sickness if she's been out in the sun a lot lately."

"She ate breakfast this morning, but it was very early and I don't think she ate much."

"Hm. Well, I'm going to run to the front office and grab a new package of gauze I ordered."

I held my breath as all the sounds rushed to me. I took a minute to try and figure out where I was. From the hard surface I was on, I guessed I was on a cot. I reluctantly opened my eyes. I blinked a few times before things were clear. The first thing I noticed was my son sitting in a cot across from the one I was lying on.

Jake moved in my line of vision. He pushed back my hair.

"Are you okay? What happened?" He asked me. His eyes bore into mine, and I could tell he knew something wasn't right with me. I knew my happiness charade wasn't good enough for him to buy. And as much as I wanted to tell him everything that was wrong—the agony from losing the lives I helped create, the pain and guilt of not knowing how to reach out to my son that felt unloved, the fear of whoever was potentially stalking me and following in Luke's footsteps, and then the frustration I felt every time Jake and I fought—I couldn't. I just couldn't anymore.

His words from earlier today flitted into my mind. _"I'd never be able to do that again if I was paired with anyone else, but you better believe I'd do a hell of a job imitating it! When it's not real, you fake it. That's acting. You don't just not fake it when you don't have chemistry. Either you're lucky and you have it, or you don't and you fake it."_

In order to make him believe I was happy, I had to make myself think I was happy. That meant painting layers and **layers **of lies and acting onto me until I came out as a totally different person. Was I willing to lose myself for this? Was I willing to bury myself?

For Jake? Of course. However, was having him be in love with a totally different person then the real me really any better then fighting and hurting each other all the time?

All the questions were swirling in my mind and confusing me to marvelous levels.

I let my eyes study his face, and then drifted over to my son's.

I was willing to hurt myself as much as possible to make them happy. They say the absolute worst feeling in the world is to be crying and having no one there to comfort you. I say its worst to see the hurt in your comforter's eyes then it is to cry alone.

I smiled at Jake.

"I'm wonderful. I guess I just got a little dehydrated."

He smiled back happily.

"I'm glad. Do you think you can sit up?"

I placed my hands beside me on the cot and pulled myself up in a sitting position. I immediately climbed off the cot. I was a little unsteady on my feet, but I didn't fall over again.

I walked over to Cole's cot. I studied his face. He didn't _look _sick. My heart was swelling to my throat before I even said a word. I wanted to hug him so much and tell him I was so, so sorry.

I tentatively pulled myself up on the cot and sat beside him. It was silent for a moment. I tried to think of something good to say, but I couldn't think of anything.

"Do you feel better?" I settled with. He looked at me and shrugged.

"I'm better then I was before."

I'm not. But I might just be in time.

"Good."

The awkward silence set back in. And before it could get even worse, the nurse's office door burst open. The smell of perfume rushed on me, and I wrinkled my nose. It was a very unattractive scent.

A short girl came in. She had her head bent over her backpack and she was digging through it, looking for something. From the corner of my eye, I saw Cole tense.

"Damn it, Nurse Winters! I'm still getting those stupid cramps. You said they'd go away." Still keeping her head down, she set her backpack down on Nurse Winter's desk and continued digging through it.

"I mean holy shit. It's been what? A month or something? Where is _that?"_

She angrily dumped out her whole backpack on the floor. When various personal items were reveled for the world, I decided she must not know there were people in here and that Nurse Winters wasn't beside her.

I cleared my throat loudly.

She looked up, and didn't look the least bit fazed that she was sitting in a pile of tampons and, oh _God, _was that a pregnancy test? How old was this girl? Thirteen?

Her eyes roamed over each person in the room, and settled on Cole. She set her things down and smiled a bright smile at him. It was then I noticed how beautiful she was. She had the whitest teeth I had ever seen in my life, and her hair was gorgeous. I still thought Emily was a prettier child, but this girl came close.

"Hi, Cole."

Her tone surprised and frightened me at the same tone. It was almost…seductive? I looked at Jake and his eyebrows were raised in surprise. I was torn between yelling at the girl, and making my family leave.

I'd always known fathers were protective over daughters, but I never realized how protective mothers can feel over their sons. Right then I wanted nothing more then to pull my son out of the room and get him away from that girl. Because when I took a second look at her, I could see she wasn't the type that stayed with a guy. I knew girls like that. I knew how they played their games. And I didn't want her playing them on my son and making him bitter towards women.

Cole glanced in the opposite direction.

"Lila."

Lila. The name rang a bell. I pondered for a minute.

"Blinkerhoff!" I exclaimed. Lila looked at me and smiled.

"Yes. How did you know? Has Cole mentioned me?"

Her eyes turned hard at the last question.

"I met your mother the other day…um, Claire. Claire Blinkerhoff. She's dating one of my best friends."

Lila waved a hand.

"Oh yeah. Ollie boy. He's been around a little _too _much if you know what I mean. Him and mom think I'm too naïve to know what they do when they get me to go the mall. Ha. Whatever."

I was shocked. I had no idea what to say to this girl! She was so…blunt and made everyone in the room feel awkward with every word that came out of her mouth.

Luckily, she saved me the mortification and continued on her own.

"I really like your music. You're actually one of my favorite singers. I'd just thought I'd let you know." She turned to Jake, "And you're my favorite actor! Haha, and Cole's my favorite boy! You've just got a great little family going on there."

"Uhh…thanks." I murmured. Jake repeated the notion.

I glanced over at Cole. His face was red in fury. I was taken aback. Sure the girl was a little blunt, but what was his issue?

She seemed to notice too, and her Cheshire cat grin told me that's what she was aiming for.

She stepped out of her pile of belongings, and sat on a stool that was between the cot I was sitting on and the one I was on before. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jake come and stand on Cole's other side as if he also knew his son was about to feel the fury of a woman.

"You've been pregnant before, right?" She asked me, a wide smile on her face.

I resisted the urge to tell her no. What a stupid question. I'm sitting beside my son, and she asks me if I've ever been pregnant.

I blinked and took a minute to compose myself. I did not like this girl.

"Yes, actually."

"Oh, good. I've actually got a question. And I would ask my mom, but _that _wouldn't be very smart. Anyway. So, if I…_lost _the baby, would it be normal to be having horrible, menstrual-like cramps?"

I saw Jake and Cole shift in embarrassment from the topic change.

I didn't know what to say to this girl. I knew what I wanted to say, but for the sake of everything, I couldn't let myself. All I knew was that I did not want this girl around my son _ever _again. The last thing he needed was to be corrupted by some...hussy in training and become a father at fourteen. Dear God.

"Um…" I struggled to answer her question professionally, "Yes, I suppose. How long was it since the…loss?"

She thought, and suddenly, all the pieces clicked together in my head.

"_Do you need to talk to me about something, Emily?" I said quickly, veering my thoughts away from anything that would cause me any more pain._

_Her voice was flat._

"_My best friend got pregnant."_

_I blinked in surprise. I worked hard to keep my hands steady and on the steering wheel._

"_Well…okay. Has she told her parents?"_

_Emily looked out the window._

"_She has nothing to tell them anymore."_

* * *

"_Miss Claire's daughter, Lila, is my best friend." Emily's voice sounded strained. I looked at her oddly, as did everyone else._

_She was staring directly at Cole._

"_Cole knows her too. _Very_ well. Don't you, Cole?" She was talking through clenched teeth._

_Did Cole date this girl? My son was dating?! Holy hell. When did that happened? Did I date when I was fourteen?_

_I felt strangely startled when I realized I had been dating when I was fourteen. I was dating my husband._

_He shrugged, "Yeah, I know her pretty well. She goes to my school after all." He muttered._

_Emily was angry. She was wringing her hands and grinding her teeth together._

"_Anything you'd like to tell your parents and Lila's mom while we're all here together?"_

_I didn't allow myself to make assumptions as to what Emily was talking about. I blocked her words out and focused on Cole's._

"_No." He replied_

I couldn't speak. I opened my mouth to make noise, but nothing came out.

"Fairly recently."

"I…"

I glanced back between Cole and Lila. I was trying to not let myself think this meant what I think it did. It couldn't. No, no, no! There was no way. No way on _Earth. _

My eyes drifted to the pregnancy test in her pile of things. And I noticed a new personal item in the pile. The bright lights winked on the familiar foil wrapper.

I covered my face with my hands and exhaled slowly. I leaned my head back and slowly moved my hands from my face. I took measured breaths.

"Miley? Miley? What's wrong?"

Jake was beside me, his panicked voice echoing around me.

I wanted to cry _so _bad. I just wanted to break down and cry.

I looked back at Cole and met his eyes, then I looked at Lila's smirking face.

"I…"

I covered my mouth with my hands.

"_Fuck_." Cole whispered softly when he realized what I had pieced together.

Jake's head snapped to him, "_What _did you say? If I ever hear you say that again you'll regret it. We don't talk like that."

"We? _You _talk like that." Cole snapped.

My God. Oh, my God. What the hell was happening here? What the hell was going on? What was my son doing to his life? What was he _doing_? He's fourteen for God's sake! What the hell is he playing at? He shouldn't be sleeping with _anyone!_ This was my fault. This was all my fault. He wasn't getting attention at home, so he had to go and get it somewhere else. _Shit. _What if he got some sort of disease? What if…

And then another thing pieced together for me.

My head snapped to Cole's. I wanted to scream at him. Scream at him and ask him if it was his idea to kill his child, and my grandchild. I wanted to hit him, lock him in his room, but most of all, I wanted to take his hand and try to help him find a way out of this. How did he sleep at night? How could he sleep at night?

I whimpered as a new thought crossed my mind.

How could he do that? How could he ever? How could he do that to _me_? How could he do that to his father? How could he do that to all of us? He saw enough death of babies to know how horrible it was. He knew how hard it was for me and his father to even be able to get up in the morning.

How could he kill his own baby? How could he? How? How? How? How?

"I'm going to be sick." I whispered to Jake. And for once, it wasn't a lie. He helped me off the cot and helped me into the bathroom. He shut the door after him. And I experienced a new feeling. I didn't want him with me. I wanted to break down, and I couldn't do that with him in here.

I leaned over the toilet, and for a moment I pictured it. I pictured my son giving Lila brochures on abortion. I pictured him holding her hand as she went in. I pictured him _paying _for it. I pictured it being his idea. I pictured him being okay with it.

I remember staring at the dead body of my baby. I remembered going through many similar procedures Lila had because my babies didn't make it. I remembered the horrible disappoint I felt when there was no longer a baby inside me. And I wondered if she had felt relief her child and my child's child was dead.

I gagged, and released the small amount of food that was in my stomach. I tried to cry, to release the strong pressure of pain building in my heart. But I couldn't get myself to.

Jake, having become very immune to throw up after all the morning sickness I'd had over the years, simply stroked my hair away from my face. He didn't get it. He didn't understand what his own son had done. He didn't understand how betrayed we were.

And I couldn't find it in my heart to tell him.

Once I had nothing left to throw up, and I stopped dry heaving, I sat on the bathroom floor and stared at the wall. I knew I could get by with saying I was a little dizzy from throwing up. Jake probably wouldn't be able to realize how much pain I was in right now. And even if he did, he would think it was physical.

"You okay now?" He asked softly. I offered up a weak smile, and I let him help me to my feet.

He stood behind me and ran his fingers through my hair as I splashed water on my face. I splashed some in my mouth to try and get the taste of throw up out of my mouth.

Jake handed me a paper towel, and I blotted my face.

"Do you feel better now?" He asked, repeating what I'd asked Cole earlier.

With pain pressing down on my voice box, I struggled out the biggest lie I ever told up until then.

"Yes."

He smiled and settled his hand on the small of my back. He opened the door and guided me through, keeping a close watch on me.

Cole stared at me as I walked in. His eyes held nothing but fear for what I was going to do. No regret.

I sat down in a chair across from the stool Lila was in. I couldn't stop looking at Cole. How could someone who was half me, and half the man I love, betray us in such a horrible, cruel way? How could he do that to me? I looked at his hands, the small ones that had once wrapped around my thumb. I studied his feet, the ones that had kicked against my womb and kept me awake at night…the last part of him that came into this world.

I held this boy in my hands. I protected him inside me until he was ready to face the world. I risked my life for him. I loved him, no matter what he thought.

But for the first time in my life, as I stared at my baby, I realized that I might actually hate him.

* * *

"Come on, my poor, sick family." Jake said as he held the front door open for us. I walked slowly into my house, eager for it to be late enough for me to go to sleep. Years and years ago the last thing I wanted to do was sleep. Now it's all I wanted to do.

Cole started up the stairs, and I didn't stop him. Let him waste his life away in there. If he wants to screw his life, and his family over, then whatever. Children just break your heart.

"If you need anything just call us on the intercom!" Jake called after Cole. Cole grunted in response.

_Jake_, I wanted to say, _do you know what your son did? Do you know what he did? Well let me tell you. _

But as angry as I was at my own flesh and blood, I wanted Cole to tell Jake himself. I wanted him to have to do it. Let him feel the pain of our disappointment. Let him feel as much pain as that baby did when it was killed.

Just the thought of my baby, and my baby's baby, being in pain made me stumble. Jake kissed my cheek and helped me over to the couch. I lay down on the cool, beige leather and pressed my face into it.

Jake pulled a blanket over me.

"If you need anything, just call. I'll be in the kitchen."

His hand lingered on the back of my head before he walked off. I felt guilty for making him take care of me again. When would I ever be able to take care of him?

I lay completely still, breathing in the fragrance of the leather couch. First I was betrayed by my own body, now I'm betraying myself, and my son is betraying me. Betray, betray, betray.

I cleared my mind. I focused on nothing. I did nothing. I didn't move. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep.

"You weren't really sick today, were you?"

As I woke up, Jake's voice was the first thing I heard. It echoed in the living room from the kitchen. I didn't want to get up even though I was sweating and my skin was sticking to the leather couch.

"No." Cole answered.

So now he lies to us and the nurse about being sick? Who the hell is he? He is not my child.

I stayed silent, listening.

"Why'd you have us come get you?" Jake asked.

"I was pissed." Cole admitted.

"At who?" Jake asked curiously.

There was a pause in which I imagined Cole wondering whether or not he should tell Jake.

"Some guys were talking shit about mom."

I pried my head off the leather couch, and let myself take a breath of cool air. I wondered why Cole bothered to stand up to those guys. He had hurt me more then any of them ever could.

"What were they saying?"

With sick humor, I realized both Jake and Cole talked with the same angry protective tone in their voice. Why hadn't Cole used that tone when his child was about to be hurt?

"Inappropriate crap. I didn't want to get into another fight, so I pretended to be sick so I could go home."

There was a pause.

"Don't ever tell your mother I said this, but I give you permission to beat the hell out of anyone who says anything about her. They were asking for it then."

Cole laughed, "Are you giving me permission to get in fights, dad?"

"I never said that."

"But you just…"

"I don't remember that."

"Sure."

There was an awkward pause.

"But uh…I'm proud of you for not hitting him. That was a very mature thing to do." Jake said, his voice trying to mask his emotion.

Cole better be feeling guilty right now. He better know what he did. He better know how bad he hurt his father.

"No problem."

I grabbed my hair and pulled it. I couldn't scream, but the pressure was too palpable. I have to release it somehow. I have to.

I pulled myself off the couch and sprinted toward the bedroom. I forgot about making no noise. I pushed the door open, and frantically and desperately opened the last cabinet. I reached back and pushed things over in my frantic race to locate the objects. My fingers touched the box, and I opened it. I pulled the cool, metal, sharp object out of the cabinet.

My breathing was labored as I held it in my palm.

I stared at it. I grabbed it, intent on using it. But I couldn't do it. I was a coward.

I shut my hand around it and squeezed my hand until the pain was too much to handle. I opened my hand. The razor had sliced my palm open, and my blood was pulsating everywhere I could see.

I shook the razor off my palm. I ignored the blood dropping all around me, and I tossed the bloody razor in the trashcan.

I watched the blood pump out of my sliced palm with glazed eyes. And I remembered that time, so many years ago, when I realized I was pregnant with Cole.

I had Jake. I had support. I had people around me. I didn't feel alone. If I wouldn't have had Jake, what would I have done? Would have I done the same thing my son might have implored his girlfriend to do? It's likely.

If I wouldn't have been such a horrible mother, he wouldn't have felt trapped. He might have been able to come and talk to us. He probably feels so alone in the world.

I pressed my bloody palm on the counter. The pattern almost looked like a small handprint.

How many innocent babies' deaths would I be responsible for before I died?


	16. Disappoint

**A/n: **thank you for the reviews! I was able to update pretty fast. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. And I suppose I should put a_ language advisory_ for this chapter. But come on--this is your basic back-of-the-school-bus language.

* * *

**"Expect people to be better than they are; it helps them to become better. But don't be disappointed when they are not; it helps them to keep trying." -- Merry Browne**

* * *

"Miley?"

I pulled myself off the cool bathroom floor. I heard Jake coming closer, and I panicked.

"Shit…" I murmured as I sprinted over to the toilet. I grabbed a wad of toilet paper and threw it in the trashcan, to hopefully cover the razor.

I raced over to the sink and flung up the faucet handle. I stuck my hand under the spray and quickly smeared the bloody mark on the counter. I wiped if off with the bottom of my dress.

Jake was in the bedroom by the time I realized my hand was still sliced open, and bleeding. I quickly ran over to the toilet and collapsed in front of it.

"Miley?" His soft voice carried through the bathroom. I squeezed my fist shut, and rested my head on my other palm.

"I'm in here." I called. I didn't even have to try and make my voice sound weak.

He was beside me a few seconds. He kneeled down.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He stroked my cheek, "Do I need to call a doctor?"

"No! I'm…uh…I'm fine. I just…cut my hand." I admitted. I grinned what I hoped looked like a bashful smile, and offered my hand to him. He uncurled my fingers and his brow furrowed.

"God…what did you do this with?" He peered closer at it.

"The…razors." He shot me a panicked look before I continued, "I…well, I wanted to throw them away. For good. I reached for them, and I guess I squeezed my hand around them with a little too much pressure."

His face expressed a confusing expression. I was worried he saw right through me for a moment. His green eyes took in my expression. I wasn't sure what my face looked like.

"For good? As in…you don't need them there for…reassurance?" He spoke carefully, as if to make sure I agreed to the same thing he thought I was saying.

My heart was pounding so hard I was so sure he could feel my pulse as he held my palm. I hated lying to him. It was horrible.

"No. I think I'm beginning to feel better," I smiled for good measure, "I think things will get better."

Lie.

There was a blank moment, before his face broke out in the most gorgeous smile I have ever seen in my whole entire life. He had his arms around me before I could even blink, and he hugged me so tightly I was afraid the lies would be squeezed out of me.

"I'm glad. I'm so, so glad." He mumbled into my hair, "It was getting hard there for a moment, wasn't it?"

I couldn't trust my mouth, so I nodded.

I was so horrible. I was a monster. I was betraying Jake almost as badly as our son has betrayed us. I was a liar. I wished then that I had brought that razor to my throat. Maybe I would have saved him and myself pain.

A few moments passed by before he said anything else.

"Today is February twentieth."

He spoke carefully, softly. I knew he was testing my limits, seeing how cold the water was before he dived in. My throat constricted, my heart bleed, and I spoke.

"I know."

I never knew how loudly a clock could tick. He pulled away from me and sat down on the floor beside me. His eyes were serious as he studied mine. He'd know now. He would be able to tell from my eyes. They were my undoing.

I wasn't sure what to do. If I looked away from his gaze, he'd know something was up. But if I let him stare into my heart, he'd know it was sliced open right now.

But he averted his gaze for me. Which made me wonder if he was hiding something he didn't want me to see.

"The twenty-eighth will make it five years."

How could his voice be so quiet, but so loud at the same time? It infused in every crevice of my being, hitting chords, echoing pain throughout me.

"Yes." My voice seemed to hum along with the vibrations of pain.

He traced his finger over the cut on my palm. His touch made it sting and soothe at the same time. He disregarded the blood that oozed onto his finger. He looked up and met my gaze.

"I think she would have wanted us to be happy."

I swallowed the tears that wanted to overspill my eyes. We'd never, ever be able to know what she would have wanted. Because she never got the chance to tell us. And she never will.

"I think she would have wanted that, too." I struggled out.

I knew he wanted to talk more. But he also could tell I was struggling just talking about this. I wondered if I'd ever be at a place where I could talk about her with him.

He stared at our linked hands for a moment, before looking back up at me. He eyed my expression before opening his mouth to say something.

"Jake? Miley?"

Alana's voice drifted into our room and traveled into the bathroom. He shut his mouth and sighed.

"Ever wonder why everyone thinks its okay to just walk right in?" He whispered to me. I smiled.

"Only every day of my entire _life_." I joked.

Alana knocked softly on the bathroom door.

"May I come in?" She asked, politely.

"Come on, Mom." Jake sighed. She walked in, smiling. Her smile slipped when she saw my bleeding hand. Her motherly instincts took over and she hurried over. She kneeled down beside me and took my hand.

She shook her head, "How in the world did you do this, dear?"

Jake and I were so practiced in the art of lying, that we didn't even look at each other to check with our stories before answering. Partners in life, partners in crime.

"Scissors." We said simultaneously.

"Aw," She cooed as she patted my other hand softly, "What is it with this family and scissors? I should confiscate all of them."

I smiled the best smile I could muster, "Sounds like a plan."

She enveloped me in a maternal hug that I needed very much at the moment. Nothing can compare to a mother's hug. It can fix almost any problem.

Could it have been that simple to fix Cole?

"Well luckily you'll only lose a few pints of blood." She said offhandedly as she pulled away. I froze.

"Pints?"

She blinked, "Well, yes. But don't worry. You should have a good enough amount pumping around."

Jake sighed, "Always the joker."

She grinned and pulled her son into a hug. She pulled away and inspected his appearance.

"You need a haircut." She decided. Jake ran a hand through his hair and groaned.

"I do not need a haircut. This is how I like it." He whined.

"You look like a hobo!" She argued.

His face broke out in the most offended expression I've ever seen.

"I do _not_!" He yelled.

"You do! Doesn't he, Miley?" They both turned to me. Honestly, I liked his hair longer. I didn't like it short that much. However, arguing with Alana was never the best idea.

"Jake looks good in any haircut." I reasoned slowly.

"Ha! See?" They both yelled at each other.

Alana sighed.

"Fine. You're a big boy; I can't make you do anything you don't want to."

"Damn right!" Jake exclaimed.

"Language!"

"Sorry, Mommy."

I snorted. God, what would I do without him?

"Anyway, the reason I came by, was to ask if you'd like to get everyone together for dinner tonight. I was thinking you could invite all the family and it would just be fun. I haven't gotten a chance to talk with Cole very much. Of course, we'd have to do it here because my house can't hold all those people! What do you think?"

"Um, sure. Is that alright with you, Mile?" Jake turned to me. I thought it over quickly. Normally I'd resent the idea of entertaining tons of people, but this was just the distraction I needed. Jake wouldn't be able to tell if I was acting weirdly with all the people around.

"Of course! It sounds lovely. I haven't talked to Jim in a very long time." I answered. Alana grinned.

"Oh, goody! I'm so excited! I'll go and make some calls!"

She stood up and sprinted from our bathroom, probably to the home phone in the hallway or lounge.

Jake and I climbed off the bathroom floor. A silence drained in.

Jake took my hand, and we smiled at each other.

"Should we go help make calls?" He suggested.

"I'd like that."

We walked forward, toward our future. One step for man, a giant step for mankind. Too bad my steps were with prosthetic legs.

* * *

I opened the refrigerator and peered skeptically inside it. I had absolutely no idea what Alana and I could cook for everyone. Because Jake was the last person to shop, it was all man food that inhabited the cool space.

"Find anything?"

Alana stuck her head inside the fridge and looked curiously in. She sighed.

"Why do you even let the boy grocery shop?"

I grinned guiltily and let the door snap shut.

"I can't penalize a man when he's trying to help out around the house."

She nodded and tapped her fingernails against the countertops.

"True. Very, very true. However, now we have a large amount of people coming over and no food to feed them."

I opened an island drawer and pulled out the phonebook. I grinned slyly. Alana matched my grin as she realized what I was thinking. She took the phonebook from me and began flipping through the pages.

"If we're going to frame takeout as our home cooked meal, we might as well get it from the best restaurant." She paused at an ad for Stephano's Italian Food, "'Tastes as good as home cooked meals in Italy'…well this isn't Italy, but it would sure be great if it was. Hand me that phone."

I grabbed the cordless receiver and handed it to her. She dialed the number and brought it to her ear. I stared into space as she fought with the man for delivery.

"—_No! _I need it here in an hour. Of course we pay well. You don't know who I'm ordering the food for, do you?"

She was staring at something behind me as she spoke. I didn't think anything of it until I felt an arm loop around my waist, and a very cold mouth kiss me. While he had me in his grasps, he dropped a piece of ice down the back of my dress.

I jumped away from him as the extreme cold made an icy trail down my back.

"Ow!" I hit his arm, "You jerk!"

I shook my dress until the ice landed on the floor. Jake was laughing behind me, looking at ease. I glared mockingly at him.

"Thanks for the warning, Alana." I said loudly as I continued glaring at him.

"Anytime!" She whispered as the man on the phone rambled on.

I sat down at the bar stool and crossed my arms over my chest. This acting was just a bit more fun then the other.

Jake sat down in the seat beside me. He rested his elbow on the island counter and rested the side of his face in his palm.

"Are you mad at me?"

I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Hmph." I turned away from him.

He edged his seat closer to mine.

"It reminded me of that time when Emily was born…you remember that?"

It was getting so incredibly hard to ignore him when all I wanted to do was jump back to that time when things were so much easier.

I reluctantly turned my stool to face him.

"Yeah, I remember."

He smiled and brushed some hair away from my face.

"Good."

That was another reason we had worked so hard to make this relationship work. No one else could be what we were to each other. No one else knew how it felt to see your baby dead, no one else knew what happened to us those years Luke was there, no one else harbored the memories of each other that we did. How could we have ever started over with someone else? I could never even picture myself with someone else in my mind's eye. It just doesn't work. Sometimes, that can be a bad thing.

"Miley! Jake! Alana! What's up?"

I looked up, and just like that, my heart came ripping apart again. One of these days I'd run out of thread to stitch it back together with.

Oliver sat cheerfully down in the stool to my other side. He said something to me, but I wasn't paying attention. I was too busy looking at the girl his daughter was chatting with.

Emily smiled at me and walked over dragging the girl along.

"Hi Miley, Jake! This is my best friend, Lila."

Jake and I nodded.

"We met her earlier today." I explained.

"Oh…I see." Emily replied.

Lila smiled at us, "Your house is just beautiful! Plenty of room, right?"

She was a very interesting person. She sounded so polite, but so bratty at the same time. I could never tell what she was intending on sounding like.

"Yes."

She sat down in a kitchen table chair. She glanced at her mother who was chatting with Oliver, then back at us.

"Where's Cole?"

I had to clamp my lips shut to keep from screaming. I felt everything build up again, and I considered yelling at her.

"Emily," I muttered through locked teeth, "Could I see you in the living room?"

She looked surprised at my tone, but followed me in there anyway. I shut all the doors that were in between the kitchen and our destination. She sat down on the couch, but I paced.

"What's wrong?" She asked, concerned.

I stopped pacing and took a deep breath.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked.

She blinked, "Tell you what?"

"That it was my son's baby your friend did away with!" My voice was high pitched and strained.

She shut her eyes, "Shit."

"How could you not tell me? You left out a humongous piece of that story! I just…I…ugh!" I screamed in frustration.

She threaded her hands together and stared at the carpet.

"I couldn't be the one to hurt you."

I sat down on the couch beside her. I stared at the wall for a few moments before burying my face in my hands. I laid against my legs.

"How could he do this to us?" My whisper was muffled.

Emily was quiet for a moment.

"The thing about family is, usually everyone is to blame."

I felt her weight leave the couch, and listened to her feet pad down the hallway and back into the kitchen. I stayed still for a minute. I couldn't get myself to move. Eventually, when I heard people at the door, I pulled myself to my feet. Only to find Cole right in front of me.

The atmosphere was tense. He avoided my gaze and stared at his shoes.

"Company is over," My voice was entirely flat, "go help your grandmother in the kitchen."

Without a word, he turned around and walked to the kitchen. I didn't know what he had wanted to say. I didn't know what he even thought he _could_ say.

The doorbell rang, and I forced myself to walk to the front door. I plastered a smile on my face, and pulled open the door.

The bright, California sunlight made me squint. Most the rest of the guests were huddled under the shade of the porch overhang.

"It's so _hot_!" Lana exclaimed as she entered the home, her arms loaded with bowls and casserole dishes.

"It really is!" Lilly agreed, following Lana in. She also had food in her arms. I frowned.

"What's with the food? I can handle this."

Lilly smirked, and handed me some of her packages. The bowls were very heavy.

"I saw Jake at the grocery store last week. And I also know finding takeout that can get out here in time is impossible."

I laughed.

"Want me to get some of those?" I asked Lana. She shook her head and balanced the dishes all the way into the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulder at the people in the doorway.

"You all can come on in."

I followed the stream of people through the hallway, passed many room, and then finally into the crowded kitchen.

My first instinct as people pressed into the kitchen was to locate Jake. That was always my first instinct. My eyes automatically spotted him near the sink talking with Lilly. I dodged people and went over to the island. I set the trays of food down and approached them.

"Miley!" Lilly squealed, before tossing her arms around me. I laughed and hugged her back.

"Where are the twins? And Isaak?" I looked around the kitchen for her fiancée and adopted daughters.

"Over there." She pointed over to where Oliver and Isaak were talking. Eve and Zoë were chatting with Emily.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jake go rigid. I reached over for his hand, but he was already striding to the kitchen door. I looked up to see what he had seen.

My father and Jackson. And attached to Jackson was Mallory.

"Look what the cat with bad tastes dragged in," Lilly muttered as she stared at Mallory in disgust.

"I'll be right back, Lilly." I said. I pushed past Claire (Oliver's girlfriend), Jim, Lana, Joe (Lana's husband), and Cole to get to them.

I made sure I was smiling before I approached them.

My dad was talking lowly with Jake and Jackson. I stood beside Jake, across from my dad, as they conversed in the kitchen doorway.

I cleared my throat.

They all looked up.

"Miles!" My dad pulled me into a hug and I hugged back. I had missed him. We pulled away and smiled at each other.

"What's going on over here?" I asked carefully.

Jake gently grabbed my forearm and pulled me closer so he could whisper to me.

"I don't want her here." He said lowly to me. I didn't either.

I looked at Jackson. He was looking at me with pleading eyes, and clutching Mallory's hand tightly. Mallory was staring at something over my shoulder.

"Let's not say anything about it. If she says anything, then we can decide what to do." I reasoned softly.

His jaw was set.

"I don't want her in my house." He was louder than before, and Jackson heard this time. He glared.

I took a deep breath.

"Jake, please. Let's all just try to get along for a few hours. Please." I stared, my eyes begging him. He sighed heavily.

"Fine. But one word and she's out of here."

I smiled and he took my hand. The very gesture still sent butterflies loose inside me.

Jackson and company moved into the kitchen, and Jake and I followed in suit. Most the women were helping with the food, while the men were gathered around in useless clusters doing nothing.

I walked over to where Lana and Alana were tossing the salad. I mindlessly pulled the tinfoil off a casserole dish. There was so much going in the kitchen. Voices, aromas, faces…but I managed to focus on one thing.

Whenever it feels like the end, it's always just another beginning.

* * *

This was one of those times my over-the-top shopping came in handy.

All fifteen of us fit comfortably in the dining room, and everyone had their own chair. This dining room only got used twice a year generally. For Christmas and Thanksgiving. And even then we usually had three seats empty. Right now, however, every single chair is filled.

Jim was at the end of the polished oak table. We always made sure he got that seat because he was having problems with his knees lately and it was hard for him to maneuver around. My dad was at the other end, for similar reasons, substituting the knee problems for back pain. Jake was beside Jim and I was beside Jake. All three teenagers were seated together across from Jake and me. Alana was, naturally, on Jim's other side. Beside the teenagers. Lucky her.

"How have you guys been lately?" Jim asked Jake and me. I speared a tomato on my fork.

"Good." Jake nodded. I brought the tomato to my mouth and chewed slowly to give me time to come up with an answer. I swallowed.

"Lovely." I settled with. To avoid any more questions, I looked at the end of the table where Lana was chatting up my dad.

"Great pasta, Lana!" I called. She smiled.

"Thanks! Would you like the recipe?"

Joe, as quietly as ever, smiled and said, "You should definitely get it. This is a wonderful dish."

I nodded. "You'll have to give that to me afterwards."

"Hey! You guys want to hear a joke?" Isaak exclaimed, his cheerful voice bouncing around the room. He didn't stop to see our responses.

"A police officer stops a blonde for speeding and asks her very nicely if he could see her license. She replies in a huff, "I wish you guys would get your act together. Just yesterday you take away my license and then today you expect me to show it to you!"" Isaak broke into a chorus of deep laughs.

Weak laughter issued, and I wondered for a minute how Isaak had forgotten seventy percent of the table was blonds. Even his fiancé was a blonde!

Zoe and Eve found the joke absolutely hilarious, and giggled along with Isaak. I felt that ever familiar pang deep in my stomach as I looked at them. I would have had my own little girl.

Dinner continued politely for quite some time with no disturbances. I was beginning to relax, and even let myself consume a second glass of wine.

Then, all hell broke loose.

I wouldn't be able to tell you what set her off, because she seemed perfectly content a few minutes earlier. All I know is that suddenly, Emily jumped out of her chair and slapped Lila across the face.

The tension was so heavy that it clustered on my shoulders and made my back ache. The silence was so loud that I had the urge to cover my ears. Oliver's jaw was hanging open, and Claire was midway in the air, torn between screaming at Emily and protecting her daughter or letting Lila fight her own battles.

Lila's head was at an odd angle and her beautiful hair cascaded over her face. There was a tangible fifteen seconds, before she turned her head and looked at Emily. Emily's mouth was set in a straight line, and in her eyes I saw Oliver's furious protection and fierce determination. Her fists were clenched, and she was breathing heavily. Not to mention her dark curls fell out of her bun and framed her face in a way that made her look almost terrifying.

Lila shoved herself out of her chair. The chair hit the floor with a deafening boom that made me wince. She advanced on Emily.

"Bitch!"

She reached out to punch Emily. I expected Oliver to be the one jumping between them, but it wasn't a brown head that was separating them.

"Put your hand down, Lila." Cole's voice was powerful and quiet as he glared at her. Even in the furious state I was, I could feel some pride swell in me.

The night was full of surprises.

Emily pushed Cole roughly out of the way. This made me instinctively rise out of my chair. I watched tersely, wine glass in hand, for the rest to unfold. All the adults wanted to interfere, but all knew they needed to let this play out.

"Stay out of this, Cole!" Emily snapped.

Cole glared at her.

"_You _stay out of this!" He yelled at her.

Lila sighed, "If you're both done, I'd like to si—"

"Shut the hell up!" Cole and Emily screamed in unison. I glanced at Oliver. His face got bone white as he heard his daughter speak profanity.

Lila ignored them and walked toward Emily.

"What is your issue?!"

Emily was _pissed_.

"You! You are my problem, Lila! I don't know what happened to you! You turned into such a…skanky bitch! This whole dinner you've been such a brat to Cole! Well I've got news for you Lila: you can't use a mistake that is both of yours just for your benefit! And I won't watch you treat him like that! Ugh! Fuck! _God, _it feels so good to get that off my chest!"

Oliver's fork slipped from his fingers and clattered loudly against the china.

Lila wasn't letting Emily have the last say, though.

"_I'm _the bitch? _Me_? No! You are! Ever since you got into that stupid ballet school you've been acting like a damn nun! You are not higher than me! I don't want to be treated as though you are ever again! And Cole knows this is more his fault then mine! And if I have to use it against him, I will!"

Everyone was confused except me.

"It is _not_! You're the ho, Lila! You made the decision to be one, not him!" Emily screamed.

Slowly, a smile shadowed over Lila's face.

"Oh yeah? He's the one who convinced me to have sex with him. He's the one who said it would be best just to get an abortion…he's the one who _paid for it_."

People were saying things all around me, but all I could hear was a loud ringing in my ears. I knew this. I knew it. But I could never explain why it hurt so much the way she said it. My grip on the wine glass loosened, and I watched it fall to the white table cloth and splash over everything.

"YOU _WHAT_?" Jake screamed. I could feel him shaking in rage beside me.

"No, no, no!" Emily screamed over everyone's voice, "That's not the whole story! Lila creatively left out the fact that she was the one who instigated the whole thing! Not to mention she was free to do whatever she wanted with her baby—"

Lila was staring pleadingly into her mother's tear filled eyes.

"I had to! H-He said if I didn't h-he'd…kill it!"

Emily snapped.

Her fist propelled forward and smashed into the side of Lila's head with awe-worthy force. Lila was thrown off balance. She grabbed onto the wall and steadied herself.

"YOU BITCH! YOU ARE SUCH A LIAR! I CAN'T BELIEVE I WAS EVER YOUR FRIEND!" Emily screamed as her fist connected viciously with any part she could reach of Lila.

Oliver grabbed his furious, sobbing child in his arms and pulled her out of the room, and away from Lila. Claire quickly went over to help Lila out of the room so she could stop her bleeding.

My son was doing nothing. He was glued to the floor, his eyes trained on the carpet, his posture horrible.

No one knew what to say. I could feel their eyes on Jake and me. I could feel warm, salty tears burning a trail down my face.

My hand touched Jake's and I could feel his erratic heartbeat through that thin connection.

"YOU HAVE THIRTY SECONDS TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF!" Jake bellowed, shooting daggers at his son.

Cole didn't move.

"HAVE NOTHING TO SAY, DO YOU?"

Jake walked closer to him.

"YOU HAD SOMETHING TO SAY WHEN YOU WERE CONVINCING HER TO HAVE SEX WITH YOU, DIDN'T YOU? YOU FUCKING HAD SOMETHING TO SAY WHEN YOU PERSUADED HER TO HAVE AN ABORTION! SO WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM NOW?"

He was dangerously close to Cole. I feared for a moment he'd kill him.

"I have nothing to say in my defense." His voice was small, and re-broke my heart.

Jake had a grip on his forearm.

"YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE LOCKED IN YOUR ROOM FOR A MONTH! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD DO THIS TO US COLE! YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT!"

Jake shook him roughly before taking a deep breath and moving away from him. I was beside Jake before I even remembered moving.

Cole looked up and met my eyes. And in his eyes I saw mine. I looked away.

"How could you do this to me, Cole?" My voice was quieter than I thought it would be, "You see how hard it is for me and your father. You saw your baby sister die. You," I paused and tried to keep from crying again, "you…" But I couldn't think of anything to say. Because nothing in the world could portray how badly he hurt me.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

"I'm leaving." Jake decided, his voice wavering with emotion, "I can't even look at him. I can't—" He broke off, and turned away. He stormed out of the room, with Alana sprinting after him.

"I am so, so disappointed in you, Cole." I said. I moved to walk after Jake, but his voice stopped me.

"Well, I'm disappointed in you."

I turned around to look at him. It was then I noticed how sad his eyes looked, and how he needed a haircut, and how he looked so much like Jake.

"Excuse me?" I breathed.

"You never gave a _shit_ about me. You could care less what happened to me. So don't even think you can begin trying to parent me now."

His words penetrated each pore in my body, and burned me. My tears choked me up.

I shook my head, "No, no, Cole. No. I always cared about you. I always loved you."

He was still, until a sudden rage came about him. He pushed the dishes off the table, and they clattered to the floor.

"WELL YOU SURE HAVE A GREAT WAY OF SHOWING IT! YOU GOT SO FUCKING ABSORBED IN WANTING ANOTHER BABY TO EXCHANGE ME FOR THAT YOU JUST TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT ME! YOU STOPPED LOVING ME A LONG, LONG TIME AGO! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NIGHTS I LAY AWAKE WAITING FOR YOU TO COME UPSTAIRS AND TELL ME YOU LOVE ME? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY SCHOOL EVENTS I SAT IN A CORNER ALONE AT BECAUSE I WAS THE ONLY CHILD WHO DIDN'T HAVE A PARENT THERE? DID YOU EVEN CARE? YOU NEVER HAD TIME TO SPARE FOR ME, YOUR ONLY SON, THE ONLY CHILD THAT WAS ALIVE! BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? I DON'T EVEN CARE ABOUT YOU ANYMORE! YOU ARE THE BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT IN MY LIFE. I'VE BEEN DOING THINGS LIKE SMOKING AND SHIT JUST TO GET YOU TO ACTUALLY PAY ATTENTION TO ME! AND YOU KNOW WHAT? NOW THAT I'VE GOT YOUR ATTENTION, I REALIZE I NEVER EVEN WANTED IT IN THE FIRST PLACE! I JUST WANTED A CHANCE TO TELL YOU HOW MUCH YOU'VE HURT ME! AND I DID THAT BABY A FAVOR! MAYBE YOU'LL LOVE IT MORE NOW. YOU SEEM TO LIKE THE DEAD CHILDREN MORE THEN THE ONES THAT ARE RIGHT THERE, NEEDING YOU!"

My heart was being ripped apart. It felt as though someone dug their stubby fingernails into my flesh and pulled it apart with great strength until it ripped and sent my innards all around the room.

I was sobbing so hard breathing was difficult. I reached out, and my hand touched his shoulder. He had always been in an arm's reach.

I tightened my hand on his shoulder, and pulled him to me. I hugged him so tightly my arms ached. The whole time he tried to get away from me, but I just held on tighter. He was taller than me already. I was sobbing so hard I thought my head would explode. The last time I'd ever felt this kind of emotional feeling was when he was born.

I placed my hand on the back of his head and smoothed his hair.

"You are my baby," I found myself telling him, "I love you. God damn it Cole, I love you. You make it so hard though. You make me want to hate you. But I can't. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I let my obsession eat me up. I'm sorry I neglected you. You can hate me all you want. But I do not hate you. How could I? I loved you before I even held you the first time. I risked myself for you, and I'd do it again. You are my baby. You are mine. I created you, and I brought you here. And I will never let you get away from me again."

He stopped struggling to get loose. My eyes were shut, and my hot tears were burning my sore skin. My heart ached, and for a second I believed it ached more than it ever had before. I stayed that way for so long it seemed. Then, Cole pulled himself out of my arms. His eyes were wet, and his nose—_my nose_—was red. Pain was such a normal tagalong that the sudden intensity of it didn't make me cry out anymore.

"I may be your baby, but that means nothing. Parents betray their children every day. I'm a living example of that."

And before my hands could grab him, he was gone again. I heard the front door slam, and I slid to the floor.

Might as well get used to rock bottom. It was where I was staying from now on.


	17. Restore

**A/n: **I must be sick or something with all the updates. Thank you so much for the amazing reviews last chapter, you guys are spectacular.

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**"And in the end I guess I had to fall...(I) always find my place among the ashes." Evanescence, "Lithium." **

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**Cole's POV:**

There's that initial moment of pure adrenaline after you do something you've wanted to do for years…something you know you shouldn't have done, but just had to do for the sake of it all. Your eye sight gets blurry and unfocused, but crystal clear at the same time. Your heart pounds like African drums inside your body. Cool, sticky sweat leaks from every pore in your skin and makes your clothes heavier, but somehow releases some of the weight from your shoulders.

I was running. The muscles in my legs were pleading for rest, and I could barely breathe. I was so focused on running, that I never even knew what I was running from. Street names blurred, faces smeared, and all I could see was the steady level of the ground beneath my feet. Like an old dependable friend, it never disappeared. But sometimes, I wish it would suck me underneath it.

It was ridiculous it should be this hot in February. That's all that was running through my mind. Weather is a safe haven; a painless topic. Maybe that's why it's always the favorite conversation starter. It can't hurt anyone.

I couldn't run anymore. If I tried, I would surely collapse. I paused on the curb and leaned over, resting my palms on my legs. My heart hammered, and my lungs were in hyper drive. I couldn't take in enough air to please them.

Finally, my head stopped swimming. I waited for the cars to cross the street before sprinting across. I collapsed on the bus stop bench. I leaned my head back, shut my eyes, and breathed slowly through my nose.

"Looks like you've got the Devil on your tail."

My eyes snapped open, and I turned toward the voice. Sitting beside me on the bench was possibly the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Her long, chocolate colored hair was perfect as it cascaded like waterfalls around her delicately sketched face and beautiful shoulders. Her teeth were perfect in every way teeth can even be perfect. I'm pretty sure she's the reason Playboy models feel self conscious. Her eyes were wide and blue, the color of Caribbean water, and gave me chills. Good or bad? I wasn't sure.

I smiled, "Something like that."

She pulled her feet up and folded them underneath her.

"Something like that for me, too." She extended her hand, "Hi. I'm Caitlyn."

Her skin was so irresistibly smooth, that I had to force my mind from thinking about it all over her.

"I'm Co—Caden. I'm Caden." Once it was out, I almost had the urge to look behind me and see who said it. I never, ever went by my first name. However, looking at Caitlyn, I had the strongest urge just to _start over. _To be someone else other then Cole, The Rebellious Teen. And that scared me. It was so sudden, so random.

She smiled a smile that had me itching for a canvas and charcoal pencil. To draw her would be to draw beauty.

"Well, Caden, it seems we're both running from sort of the same thing." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I'm running from my mother." Who was this girl, and why couldn't I seem to keep my mouth shut around her?

"I'm running from my father." She stared forward, her eyes turning hard. For a moment, she actually _frightened _me. I couldn't explain it. For a moment, I didn't see her. I saw something else. I shook my head.

"Oh. What did he…well, do you mind me asking why?" I struggled out, staring forward myself.

She fiddled nervously with the hem of her shirt. She glanced nervously at me, biting the corner of her lip.

"He wants me to go to Harvard. He found out I've been spending my time working with my vocals, and he got angry. Apparently I should be fully focused on academics. I'm _fourteen _for God's sake. I won't go to college for a little over three years. He's just so…extreme about everything," She shook her head, "My mom is the only one who can even rationalize with him, but she wasn't here when he blew up. So I just ran. I hate screaming."

I thought back to the screaming I had just done mere minutes ago.

"You like to sing?" I asked, trying to veer her off painful courses of thought. I suddenly had the strongest urge to hear her sing. I couldn't explain it.

She nodded, "Very much. I…I wanted to do something in that career path when I got older. However, my father is dead set on me being a doctor."

I studied this beautiful girl again, and noticed things I hadn't noticed before. Like how the sun reflected against her hair like stained glass, and how her eyes look almost _broken. _But more than anything, I noticed how she had the capability to understand me more than anyone else.

"You can do anything you want to do."

What the _hell? _That was the exact thing I _hated_. I hated when parents told their children this. Because it's not true. Some kids just aren't born with the ability to be an actor or athlete. And as much as they want it, they can't have it. But I believed Caitlyn really _could _do anything she wanted.

She smiled.

"You know that's not true. I can't do anything without the right talent."

Was I that easy to read? Or had I said my thoughts aloud?

"I bet you have talent in singing," I replied.

She shifted in her seat, and looked nervous.

"There's something else…my dad, well, he hates singing. He hates music. He gets _furious _when I turn the radio on, or play a CD. So when he considers me going into a career path that involves his most hated thing, he flips."

How strange.

My brow furrowed, "Why does your father hate music?"

She sighed, "I don't know. And if you knew my father, you'd know why I haven't had the guts to ask him."

She fascinated me. I wanted to know more about her life, about her.

I wanted to know why, when I was talking with her, I forgot about all my problems.

* * *

**Miley's POV: **

I think I was speeding.

I ignored the increasing speedometer as I floored the gas pedal. I scanned the streets with my eyes. I was hoping with all my heart he hadn't gotten to anyone's house yet. I'd already covered the three streets to the right of us, and I was taking the left now.

My legs were jelly. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my neck. My stomach was so heavy that I had the constant urge to throw up.

If something happened to him because of me…If he got _hurt_…

I gripped the steering wheel so tightly that the skin underneath my fingernails turned red.

How would I ever live if the last thing I said to him was what I did? How would I live if the last thing he said to me was the last thing he'd ever say?

How would I live without him in general?

Mothers weren't supposed to hurt their sons. Mothers were supposed to watch over, protect, and nurture their sons. I was a horrible, horrible mother. Was it too late to learn to be a good one?

But even if I could clean my act up, I could never get those years back. I will _never _get his childhood back. I lost that. I lost the most precious time I could have ever had with him. And he'd never get better memories in exchange for the horrible ones.

I had single handedly ruined a life.

Guilt slithered through my body like a great serpent, and I tried to keep from crying again. You never know what you have until it's gone.

I turned the corner onto Mariposa de Oro Street, diligently scanning the sidewalks for my child.

Relief was one of those ironic feelings. It spread warmth throughout my body, and helped me continue breathing. But I still felt sick, and shaky, and frightened. I wanted my child back in my arms, as much as he didn't want it.

The events from earlier had motivated me to fix this. I knew what was wrong now. I knew exactly the problem was. I could fix it now. I was going to rebuild the relationship with my son, if it's the last thing I did.

He was sitting on a bench in front of the bus stop, chatting with some girl I've never seen in my life. I assumed she was from his school. From what I could see, she was very pretty. I pulled the car to a stop a few feet away from where he was. I didn't even pause to think I might be parking in the middle of the road. I put it in park, and climbed out.

I ducked my head, hoping nobody noticed me. The last thing I needed was this ordeal on the cover of _People_ magazine.

The closer I got, the sicker I felt. I wanted to fix things. But I was so, so afraid of rejection. I was afraid of him deciding he didn't want anything to do with me. Which, in a way, was exactly how he felt I treated him.

I stared at my feet and tried to breathe normally as I walked in front of him. The tension between us was ridiculously thick. I looked up.

He was staring back at me, waiting. And wordlessly, he stood up. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't think of anything to say.

"Bye, Caitlyn." He muttered to the girl.

She smiled, "Goodbye."

He took off toward the car. I followed him. He climbed in the front seat, and I settled myself back in the driver's. I reached to put the car back in drive, but I faltered.

I stared at my blurry reflection in the dashboard, and wondered if I had always looked like such a monster.

"How can I fix it?"

The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could even think about saying them. He turned and stared at me. His blue eyes had flecks of green that I had failed to take notice of before. In fact, the more I looked at him, the more I saw that I hadn't before. Like the fact the boyish roundness was leaving his face and being replaced by a strong jaw bone. Or the fact that he had a freckle right below his right ear.

I was the first person he ever knew. I raised him. How could I not _know _him? I've been around him for his whole entire life. I carried him inside of me for seven months. I…didn't know him.

If asked to, I could probably paint the slight arch of Jake's foot. I could explain to you in detail the lines on his palm. I could close my eyes and see him, clear as day.

It was thinking like that that put everything more into perspective for me. Just because I knew him the first five years of his life didn't mean I did anymore. I never gave him the time he deserved, the time he needed.

I shamed the title mother.

Cole has this spark in his eyes, as if he knew what I had seen. Or more importantly, what I had not seen.

He turned away and looked out the windshield.

"You can't."

When did his voice get so deep? When did the little boyish voice get exchanged for a man's? When did he grow up? How could I let him grow up without me?

"I'm sorry." My voice was strangled with emotion.

He glanced out his window.

"Sorry doesn't mend bridges." His voice was soft, a whisper.

I didn't move, I didn't breathe. The slightest movement might make me breakdown.

"Why did you do it?" He turned to me, his eyes searching for something I couldn't give him, "Was I not good enough? Was I too much of a hassle?"

I breathed painfully, while guilt feasted on everything good inside of me. I wondered if this was what it felt like to be eaten alive.

"I don't know what you were. I don't know what you are." I admitted quietly. _But I want to. So, so much._ I added in my mind.

His voice was shaking, "You could have. I was always there. Unlike you."

I couldn't even find the strength to keep my hands on the steering wheel. My hands crashed down and landed softly in my lap. Kind of like my world.

I tried to say so many things. I tried to explain that I was obsessed. I tried to explain how much it _hurt. _But I couldn't get it out.

"I think I need to tell you something." My voice was wavering with emotion. He looked at me, slight confusion on his face. I put the car in drive, and took off down the road. I turned the corner onto our street, and pulled up the long driveway into the house.

I parked the car and turned it off. I quickly climbed out, and Cole followed my lead. My feet were carrying me inside the house, down the hall, into the living room.

Everyone was sitting there, grave faces on. They looked up when I came, and I saw Cole shrink away from their disappointed glances from the corner of my eye.

"Where's Jake?" I asked them. My voice was strained.

Alana grimly looked at the stairs and pointed towards them. My heart shrank. There was only one place he would…oh no.

I took off racing up the stairs, flying faster than I ever remember running. And sure enough, the door to Cole's door was open.

The hallway was cluttered with things. Magazines, furniture, video games…everything.

"What the_ hell_ are you doing?" Cole exploded, running into the room his father was disassembling. I followed him in.

Jake was disconnecting Cole's computer, and tossing CDs into a black trash bag.

"Jake, what are you doing?" I asked him softly. He yanked the monitor off the desk and put it in the bag.

I jumped over various items littering the floor until I was beside Jake.

"_Jake_," I hissed in his ear, "Please don't make this worse than it already is. Please."

He slammed the CPU into the bag and spun around. I could _feel _the fury radiating from him. He glanced behind me, at Cole who was angrily pulling his things out of the bags and putting them back in their spots.

"_STOP." _

Jake's voice made chills cascade down my spine, and not in the good way. He looked so frightening. Cole stopped what he was doing.

"This is my stuff." Cole argued.

In a flash, Jake was on his feet. He seemed taller when he was furious.

"This is _my _stuff. It was purchased with mine and your mother's money. If you're mature enough to make the decision you made, then you are mature enough to buy your own shit."

He spun around and yanked the keyboard off the desk. He threw it into the bag.

"What else did you expect me to do?" Cole thundered.

Jake ignored him.

"Jake," I intervened, "You can't do this. You can't take his furniture and clothes away."

"Like hell I can't."

I had made a pact with myself earlier to do everything I could to keep from fighting with him. However, it's about time I put my son first.

I grabbed Jake's hands. He looked at me.

"Where is he going to sleep?"

He stuffed the mouse into the bag.

"I'll leave the mattress in here."

"You are not making our son sleep on a mattress on the floor." I argued.

He angrily flung a Wii into the almost full bag. He turned to me.

"Well what the hell do you expect me to do, Miley? Our son killed his child. He killed it! Our babies are dead. His sisters are dead. And he _killed _his own child. Should I just sit back and relax about this?"

I ignored the stabs of pain that erupted along my body.

"No. Of course not. I just don't think…I don't think this is the way to go."

"DO YOU NOT EVEN CARE?" His scream was unexpected and made me jump. His hands were shaking, and he was keeping his face turned from me. The two tale tell signs he was hurting.

"I care, Jake. It hurts me. It really does." I paused, "But don't you think it's about time we put Cole in front of their memories?"

There was a long, heavy silence. Jake stood up slowly, and offered me his hand. He helped me up.

"Anything that involves electricity is mine," He told his son, "The rest stays."

Cole glared daggers at Jake, and Jake went about gathering all the electronic things together. I thought it was pointless. You punish children so they know it will hurt them if they do it again. But I knew Cole wouldn't do it again.

I walked over to his bed and sat down. My heart was hammering, and my palms sweaty. I closed my eyes, and pictured Cole when he was four. I watched him toddle up to me and hug me. I watched him giggle. I watched him emit happiness.

I watched him love me.

I needed him to understand. I needed him to know how much he meant to me. I needed him to understand he was the greatest miracle.

"It was the Forth of July."

My voice was so soft, but yet echoed all around me. Cole looked at me, his expression unreadable. Jake on the other hand, froze.

I nervously wrung my hands and swallowed the tears that already wanted to spill over.

"I went with Oliver and Lilly to the beach. Every year they did beautiful fireworks over the water. I remember your Uncle Jackson telling me not to go. I went anyway. They didn't want me to go because of someone."

My hands were shaking so badly that even Cole's eyes took note of it.

"His name was Luke Oken, and he was Oliver's cousin. He…" I stopped, tears prickling my eyes. I had told this story so many times, that the idea I was getting so worked up at the beginning was a mystery to me.

"Mom," Cole said softly, "I've read about this on the Internet. You don't have to continue. It's okay."

I shook my head hastily.

"No. I need—I want—to tell you this." I replied. He'd never hear the true story unless I told him.

I paused, and then began my story again.

"He was beautiful at first sight. His eyes…they were so blue. Like the ocean. And gave me frightening chills. And his hair was so perfect. His teeth…I remember thinking they were a dentist's dream. He has such a powerful personality that it was scary. He was one of those people you were either fascinated with or completely scared shitless of. His first motive was to use me to get to Oliver."

The look on Cole's face puzzled me. It was of confusion, and anxiety. I wondered if I should even tell him this for a moment. He looked ready to pass out already.

"He knocked me unconscious that night at the beach. He took me from Malibu, from my family, from my life. He locked me up in a room. When I woke up, I was so frightened…I used a pipe to get the vent open and escape. I walked down the cold roads; I was in Antarctica, for a long while—"

Jake cut me off. He set down the bag and sat down beside me. He took my hand. He looked at his son.

"I was in Antarctica, taking a break. I had left there to film a movie a year prior, and I liked it there. I was driving, when I saw her walking down the side of the road. I remember it clear as day—she was wearing shorts with a tanktop. I remember thinking she was still as cute as ever, but also that it was strange she was wandering along the road in that attire. I pulled over on the side of the road, and she got in the car."

We both glanced at each other, trying to figure out how much the other wanted us to censor this story.

"You tell some of it," I murmured to him, "I'd like to hear your side of it."

So he jumped into the painful, upsetting retell of our life story. I listened tersely, and watched Cole's face nervously. I promised myself that if he looked upset I'd make Jake stop.

Jake told the story seamlessly all the way up to the day Cole was conceived (we didn't tell him that, of course. We creatively left out the most special part of that Christmas.), then looked at me.

I pondered a delicately way to jump upon the subject of me finding out I was pregnant.

"I fell down the stairs, and I hurt my wrists. I met our neighbors, Sean and Lavinia. Jake made me go to the doctor, even though my wrist was just a _little _purple," I smiled at him, "And there I found out that I was pregnant."

Cole blinked.

"With me?" He asked, disbelief ringing through every syllable.

"Yes with you, silly. Who else? I was _terrified_. I waited until Tom Katolie, Jake's manager, left and I told Jake. He told me everything was going to be alright. We broke the news to everyone then. Most everyone took it okay."

I paused, trying to decide where to go from there. Before I even got my train of thought back, Jake was already sweeping us all away to a time so, so long ago when things were so terrible, but so much easier than they were now.

He stopped the story right at when I left to go back home when he was in Italy.

"Your mom will have to tell this bit. I wasn't there." He told Cole.

This was where it got hard. This was when my hands started shaking, my breathing got shallow, and my head ached. I stared at the floor, and allowed myself to go back in time.

"I got home, and my cousin Luann was there. She told me that…" I glanced at Cole's face once more, making sure I could finish this, "Luke always got everyone he wanted. Except me. I was a challenge, and he wanted to win the game. She said that if he found me he would," why was it so hard to get that dreaded four letter word out of my mouth? My job involved me saying it all the time. But no, I couldn't seem to get the word out. "Rape me." I struggled out. I didn't risk looking at Cole's face. I just continued quickly.

"That night, I went to my room. My dad had opened the window, thinking I wanted it opened like I always did before. However, I didn't. I went into my Hannah Montana closet, it was soundproof. I called Jake and he told me to get Jackson to close the window. I hung up…and before I could call Jackson…my phone was ripped out of my hand. He tried to…take advantage of me, and then the phone rang. It was Jake's manager, saying Jake had been in a car accident. I can't…I can't remember some of what happened. But I remember Luke started beating me, and all I was concerned with was protecting you. I still have scars on my back from it…anyway; Jackson came in and found me. I passed out, and woke up in the hospital."

The silence drained in as I saw things none of them could. I recited the story all the way up to after his birth.

"And then, when I held you, it all didn't matter anymore," I smiled at him, picturing him as a little baby. I couldn't help but let a few tears leak out. We'd come so far, but gotten nowhere, "Out of everything that had happened to us, we got you. And it made everything worthwhile. You can't imagine how much you mean to us. And I know I mistreated you, and I never told you enough, but I love you. Nothing can ever change that. You need to know that. I need you to realize how much you mean to _me_."

The begging tone in my voice was raw, and desperate. He was looking at his feet. I tried to ignore the hurt, and went back to my story.

The most painful part of it was telling when Jake left me. The closer I got to that, the more I shook. I didn't want to think about the things he had said. I didn't want to think about the pain.

"That morning, your father had bags packed by the door. He said that he was l-leaving, and that he never loved me." Cole's expression was priceless. I swallowed the lump in my throat and continued, "You were the only person who was there. You were the only person that never left. And I left you." My eyes burned, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Jake stroked my hair, and continued for me. He only stopped for the parts he wasn't there for. The time I was attacked. The end of it all, as I liked to think of it as.

"I got home, and I was distressed. I felt like Jake and I had nothing anymore. You were with Oliver and Lilly that day, thankfully. Luke was on the couch. He…." I looked at Jake. I don't think I had ever told him exactly how close I had gotten to forgetting him.

"He told me Jake did everything on his own, and that he didn't love me. He told me that _he _loved me, and it sounded so…real. I was in need of someone caring for me. He tried to get me to leave Jake, to stay with him. But I couldn't. I just couldn't. Because I think even in the worst situation of our relationship, I knew I was supposed to be with him. I remember thinking, as I told Luke I would never leave Jake, that I couldn't die without kissing him, or singing and laughing with you again. It was the most unbearable thought, because I believed it was too late. I thought he was surely going to kill me. I tried everything I knew to get him to back off, but it only made him angrier. In a bout of fury, I remember running into the kitchen. I yanked the drawer with the knives in them out, but I pulled it too hard and it landed on my foot. Luke grabbed it and put it back before I could grab a knife. He cornered me against the counter, and hit me. My elbow grazed something…it was the piece of the broken mug Lilly had broken…"

I trailed off. I pictured the policeman coming into the nurse's quarter, holding that piece of mug in the baggy. And for a moment, I realized that maybe what had just recently happened to me tied in with the story I was telling now.

"I grabbed the shard, and shoved it into his forearm. I kept shoving it in until I couldn't anymore. I yanked it out and stabbed him again and again…"

Cole was looking at with a mixed expression of awe and fear.

"Then, he punched me and sent my flying on the floor. He pulled a gun out of his jacket. And he paused to brag about it. He said after he killed me, he was going to kill you, and then Jake. He said he'd get pleasure out of watching it. He turned around for a reason I'll never find out, and I was up running to the knife drawer. I grabbed knife, and he shot at me. I hid behind the island. I heard him coming up behind me, and I circled the island and tackled him. I tossed the gun away, and he fell to the ground. Hisarm was bleeding, and his shirt was bloody where I might have accidently cut him when I tackled him. I stood over him ready to shove the knife in into his heart. Then he said something that pissed me off, and I raised the knife to kill him, and the door was opened. James Oken, or the therapist I had been seeing, came in with a gun in his hands. I was about to stab Luke, but I paused. I was not a murderer. James lifted the gun, and shot me in the abdomen."

Cole's eyes widened.

"Luke stood over my body, and I remember exactly what he said to me. He said 'Even if by some miracle you live, you'll never have children ever again. You'll never be happy, or win. I always win.' And he laughed. He laughed. And I heard a gunshot, and then another. And I passed out."

Was it possible that Luke hadn't really died that night? I hadn't actually seen him die. I hadn't. Alana had just told me James was the one that lived. But what if he wasn't?

Or what if he was the one doing all these things as some sort of shrine to his brother?

I wasn't even aware of the tears streaming down my face until Jake wiped them away.

"That's why, Cole," I stared at him, trying to get him to understand, "that's why I got so caught up in wanting another child. I wanted so badly to win. I didn't want him to win even when was was…gone. I couldn't let him hurt us anymore. And when I wasn't able to have another, I got angry. It wasn't fair that he won all the time. It wasn't fair that he kept hurting us. It wasn't that I didn't love you, or that you weren't good enough. Because that is not true. It was that I let myself get caught up. I wanted so badly to be the one that could say _I _always win. It was having a baby that stood between me and that. And I wanted one so bad. I wanted another little child to nurture and love. But I couldn't get that. Because I've realized something," I looked into his eyes, "winning isn't always better than losing."

There was a long, long silence as we all thought. And then, cautiously, Cole came and sat beside me. He didn't say anything for a moment. Then, he turned to me.

"I'm not saying I forgive you for what you did. I'm just saying that…I understand more. And…" He paused, struggling to get past the emotional blockage most boys put up, "I'd like to move on."

I knew how much teenage boys hated to be hugged by their mothers. I knew our relationship still wasn't the best. But I couldn't stop from hugging him. When he was in my arms, it felt like he had never left them those years he'd wandered free. It felt like I knew his as well as I had when he was a baby. It felt as if I could protect him from everything bad.

It felt like starting over.

"I'd like that too." I whispered, "I'd really, really like that."

* * *

I left Cole with Jake, hoping they could reach a mutual understanding over his punishment. I walked down the stairs, and immediately noticed everyone had left. It didn't bother me much at all.

I wandered into my bedroom and up the staircase to the sitting room. I flipped on the light. On the wall above the fireplace, was a TV. I walked over to the closet in the back of the room, and opened it. It was dark, and it had no light. I squinted in the dark opening and tried to locate the box. I finally just groped around the shelves until my hands hit the box.

I heaved it out. It was full to the brim of DVD. Home videos. I dragged it across the room, and grabbed one off the top. _Christmas, 2009. _

Cole was two when this video was taken. I greedily ripped it out of the case, and turned on the DVD player that was on top of the mantel. I turned the power on the TV, and inserted the DVD into the DVD player.

I opened the drawer in the side table beside the couch, and pulled out the remote. When the screen flickered to life, I pushed pause. I walked over to the wine rack, and randomly pulled a bottle off it. Above the rack was a cabinet that held wine glasses. I grabbed one out. It took me almost five minutes to get the cork out, but once it was I settled on the floor. I poured a hearty amount in the glass, and pushed play.

I watched two year old Cole carefully walk up the Christmas tree. He seemed more impressed with the colorful lights then the presents underneath.

"Lights!" He pointed at the tree. Jake smiled and picked him up.

"Yes. Lights. But look what's _under _the lights!"

He held up a present. Cole looked at it, then back at the lights. He ran over to me (we had the camera on a stand, recording), and grabbed my hand.

"Lights, mommy!" Nineteen year old me smiled at him and picked up him.

"Mmmhmm. What color is this light?" I pointed at a blue light.

"Gween!" He cried in delight, clapping his hands together and giggling. Jake and I laughed along.

"You think he's color blind or just doesn't know?" Jake asked me. I shrugged.

Looking at the video, I noticed how my eyes lit up whenever I looked at my baby. What happened to that? Why did I let him crash and burn, instead of making sure he stayed my world?

Video-me kissed Cole. He turned his head and smiled at me.

"Mommy," He held out his arms. I remember two was when he learned to hug and kiss. Little Cole wrapped his tiny arms around me and pressed his mouth on my cheek. Video-Jake wrapped his arm around me, gently sandwiching Cole between us. He giggled.

We were so happy. Why couldn't I have seen I had everything right there? I didn't need another baby. My family was already perfect.

"Now," Nineteen-year-old me exclaimed, "Let's get Coley's presents opened!"

Jake and I sat down on the floor, and Cole sat contently in my lap. Jake handed him a small, colorfully wrapped box. I helped Cole take the wrapping paper off, and it revealed a package of Hot Wheel cars. Those were his choice toys at age two.

He squealed in delight. Jake and I smiled at each other.

"Want me to open them?" Jake asked, reaching for the package. Cole nodded, his head bobbing.

"I love you," he chorused off to his dad and me. "I love you" was a phrase he learned early.

I stared at Video-me and mouthed along with her next words.

"I love you, too."

They say each year you're alive you learn something new.

I think I could learn more from the past then I could from the future.

* * *

I watched home videos all night long. Somewhere between 2012 and 2013, Jake joined me. When the videos started getting sparser and sparser—around the time we got obsessed with having another baby—the wine came in handy. Between the two of us we consumed a bottle.

When we reached a video taken February twenty fifth, we both were too sick to even touch the bottle. We watched in painful silence.

I didn't know what was more painful. Seeing Isabella again, or having to look at the hopeful, happy expression on my face and know she died just three days later.

We made it through all the videos. There were about five taken the three days she was with us. The last video was the hardest to watch.

I had been holding her, and she coughed. As I watched it, I found myself wondering if I would have insisted a doctor check her out she wouldn't have died. I wondered if it was even more of my fault. I watched every move she made in that last video; trying to see a hint she was going to pass away in her sleep. I saw nothing.

I ended up drunk, sobbing on Jake's shoulder the rest of the night. He had a higher alcohol tolerance level then I did, and was only slightly wasted. He cried too, I think.

We fell asleep in front of the TV, an empty wine bottle on the floor, and Cole waving at us from the top of a diving board, his happiness eternally frozen in time.


	18. Hide

**A/n:** Sorry this is so late. I went on vacation so I wasn't here to write :) (psst...happy birthday again, Megan!) Thank you so much for the fantastic reviews. They--and you guys--are amazing.

* * *

**"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he doesn't become a monster." -- Friedrich Nietzsche**

* * *

I was awakened by the sound of a scream.

I jerked myself out of sleep quickly—something you learn to do very fast once you have children—and sprang up.

My back and neck ached, my head throbbed with pain, but the feel of my panic ultimately drowned that out. I squinted in the darkness, only to hear the scream again.

It took me longer then it should have to realize it was coming from the TV. I supposed we must have had the settings for this DVD set to loop, because the home video had started over only God knows how many times.

In the video, I was tickling Cole until he shrieked in laughter. I immediately relaxed, sensing that the cause of screaming was a good cause rather than a bad one. I sat quietly and listened for the sounds of the sleeping. All I could hear was Jake's gentle breathing and my own heartbeat. My eyes automatically drifted to Jake. The glow of the television highlighted his face in the dark. I watched his calm, relaxed face for what must have been at least five minutes. He was beautiful.

I still didn't feel calm though. Something was making me tense and uneasy. It was that ever familiar feeling of my stomach being squeezed from the inside out. Maybe it was the fact that it was _too _quiet.

I stood up, realizing how horrible I felt very instantaneously. My skull felt like it was getting pounded with hard, deliberate strikes and I was very shaky. I wasn't sure if the latter was because of my undeniable hangover, or the fear that had stricken me.

I grabbed the stairwell banister and carefully walked down each step. The silver glow of the alarm clock announced that it was only a little after fiveA.M. I considered writing off the feeling as paranoia caused by my past and going back to Jake, but I couldn't make myself. The events prior to today were becoming fresher in my mind with each passing moment I was under the control of this feeling.

I walked quietly out of my bedroom and down the hallway. I climbed the stairs quietly, following where instinct told me I should go. Naturally, my gut instinct led me to Cole's room. I was suddenly hit with a flashback that was so prominent that I wanted to cry. How many nights had I waken myself up just to check on him? Uncountable amounts.

When had I stopped doing it?

His door was shut. The glow of the moonlight shined off the silver doorknob, and I grasped it. I pressed my ear to the door.

I could hear the hum of the air conditioner, and feel cold air escaping through the cracks in his door. I didn't hear much of anything else.

I turned the doorknob quietly, and swung the door open.

Without his electronics, the room looked lonely. The TV stand was completely bare, as was the computer desk. Other things had changed since I'd been in there. Canvases and sketchbooks covered every inch of the floor space. I could see oil pastels, paints, chalk, and charcoal pencils littering the nightstands on either side of his bed.

And he wasn't in it.

"Need something?" His voice was quiet, but startled me all the same. I jumped. Cole was sitting on the other side of the floor beside his bed, out of my line of vision unless he happened to stand up. Which he was.

"Oh…I just wanted to check on you." I replied. I was surprised at how scratchy my voice was. The taste of stale alcohol in my mouth grossed me out.

"I'm fine." He adverted his eyes back to whatever was on the floor. He sat down on his bed.

"What are you still doing awake? It's five A.M." I asked, my eyes wandering over the canvases. They were amazing. Some were even heartbreaking.

"Maybe we're awake for the same reason." He reasoned, his eyes questioning me.

"We _better_ not be awake for the same reason," I muttered, my thoughts drifting to the wine I'd just consumed.

"Why?" He asked, his eyes sparked with curiosity.

"Well…I just mean…well," I didn't exactly know how to tell my son I'd drank away my sorrows, but I didn't know how _not _to, "It's okay for your dad and I, but you're too young. We're responsible and in a situation where it's okay."

His nose scrunched up in disgust, and it took me a minute to realize how he probably took that sentence.

"No! I don't mean that your dad and I…" I trailed off awkwardly, "well, you know. I drank a little wine and I just meant you better not have been up here getting wasted."

He ducked his head in embarrassment.

"Oh."

The silence was awkward. Very awkward.

I was looking at a painting near his closet that I wanted to see more of.

"Could I look at that painting?" I asked politely. He may be my son, but this is his work. He has a right to keep things secret. Well, good things.

He hesitated.

"Sure." He stood up, and dodged paintings as he crossed his room. I stepped over paintings and sat down on his computer chair. A few moments later, he came back with the painting. I was surprised to smell the scent of fresh paint. I reached out for it, and his ink stained hands placed the painting in my clean ones.

It was a field. The grass was long, green, and healthy, like the long grasslands I'd only seen in pictures, and for a moment I felt like I was there. Beautiful, small lavender colored flowers grew everywhere. The wind was blowing each piece of grass and flower toward the back right, and the clouds were amazing. They hovered low to the ground, and were outlined in the most sparkly golden paint I'd ever seen in my life. The sky was the most pleasant shade of calming ocean blue, and I could almost see the waves tossing in the sky. As I peered closer in the painting, I saw a solitary figure sitting in the middle of the grass. Her whole body was covered in the grass, and her brown hair was blowing every which direction. She had the most beautiful face in the world, but her eyes…I didn't like them. They looked malicious, and creepy.

It took me a minute to realize Cole was perched on the desk behind me. He reached out, and gently touched the golden lined clouds with his colorful hands.

"The clouds…it's supposed to be a twist on "every cloud has a silver lining"…except it's more like…all that glitters is not gold. Just because something looks perfect, doesn't mean it always is."

I studied the painting once more. And sure enough, the more I looked at it, the more I could see angry gray in those white clouds.

"The girl. She's beautiful." I murmured. My fingers lightly touched the realistic face, just to see if maybe it really was real. I was surprised to pull back my hands and have a little wet paint on them. I was worried I'd messed up the painting, but it looked as good as normal. It took me a minute to realize where I had seen her. "She's the girl, at the bus stop."

"Yes." He replied. I glanced up at his expression and his brow was furrowed in concentration.

I looked back at the canvas.

"So the painting is basically saying this girl didn't turn out to be as good as you thought she was." My eyes drifted toward the perfect grass, and how it covered her up, "And that she hid her true self behind perfect lies."

He looked at me, looking entirely confused as if he had no idea what I was talking about.

"The painting…" I motioned back at it.

He stared back at it. There was a long pause.

"Maybe."

"I love it," I whispered. My son was entirely brilliant.

"Do you want it?" He asked, his voice guarded. I looked back at him. He was looking at the floor, embarrassment apparent in his face.

My heart warmed, and I smiled at him.

"I would love that very much."

He took it from my hands, and walked over to his easel and sat it there.

"It needs to dry, and then you can come get it."

I nodded. He had horrid circles underneath his eyes, and looked extremely tired. I stood up, and carefully walked over to where he was, making sure not to step on his work.

I placed my hand on his cheek, and was surprised too feel how cold he was.

"Why don't you and I both get some sleep, then later I'll take you for ice cream?"

He avoided my eyes.

"Mom…I'm not a baby."

I couldn't resist—I pinched his cheek in a mocking way, "Aww, you'll always be my little baby."

He didn't respond, but the response hung in the air like fog. _Yeah, until you get another one better than me. _

I moved my hand back from his face.

"So…what do you say about some ice cream?"

He looked over at his nightstand.

"I need more oil paints."

I was getting better and better at understanding the language of boys.

"Then we can stop by the mall afterwards and get you some paints, Mm'kay?"

I smiled at him, and he cracked a smile back.

"Okay sounds good."

I wasn't sure if I was going about fixing our relationship the right way. I just hoped he appreciated the effort.

* * *

I considered collapsing in my bed until morning, but when I laid down, it didn't feel right. It was too empty without Jake. And, as pathetic as it sounded, I'd rather break my back sleeping on the hard floor then sleep without him.

I climbed the staircase back up to the lounge sluggishly. I was getting more tired as the time passed. What I had thought was a hangover before was either not one, or a very mild one. I hadn't thrown up once. My head hurt, but it was nothing I couldn't handle.

Jake was asleep just as he had been a few minutes ago. He was on his side, lying with his arm under his head. I went over to the closet and pulled out an old quilt. I got down on the floor and spread the quilt over him, before lying down and pulling it over me. I lied on my side, facing him. I moved closer, until his body heat crashed into me like waves. I looked at him until sleep eventually took over, forcing my eyes shut.

* * *

By the time I woke up again, my headache was intensified. I wasn't sure if this had everything to do with the hangover or the fact I hadn't slept much. I wasn't the most experienced person in hangovers. I could count the number of times I'd gotten drunk on one hand.

I forced myself up in a sitting position. I moaned and cradled my head in my hands. The pain was blinding as it stabbed behind my eyes.

"Hangover?"

I opened my eyes to see Jake sitting—perfectly relaxed I might add—on the couch. I frowned.

"What the hell was that?" I reached across the floor for the empty bottle.

Jake laughed, "Just your normal dinner wine. You haven't drunk in a long time."

I pulled myself up and sat down beside him on the couch. I rested my head on his shoulder and ignored the new symptom of nausea that was occurring.

"You're telling me. I think the last time I got drunk was…uh…" I closed my eyes and tried to remember, "Four and a half years ago at our ten year anniversary."

I could see Jake smile even with my eyes shut.

"That was much more fun than this was, though."

I sighed and turned my face so it was pressed into his arm and all I could see was the darkness behind my eyelids.

"Anything would have been more fun than that." I mumbled. I felt his hand come up and stroke my hair and I allowed myself to relaxed and just breathe for a minute. Sometimes, lately especially, I felt as though the world was spinning so fast that when it finally came to a halt I'd go flying right off it and fall into a black hole, never to be seen again.

"Do you think a childhood can be rebuilt? Do you think that all mistakes can be fixed? Even the ones that seem so unfixable that it makes you want to slam your head into a wall in frustration?" My voice was surprisingly calm and steady. Jake's hand faltered and he brought it down to mine. He grasped it tightly and squeezed it lightly with a gesture that said more then I deserved to hear: _I forgive you even if he doesn't. I don't think you are a monster. I believe in you. _

"I believe that good people forgive good people and that everyone can change." He whispered, his face pressed into my hair.

I led down my guard for one moment and allowed myself to feel the things I tried to lock away. The wall went down like a dam wall and so many things came rushing over me so fast that all I could do was put the wall back up again. There comes a time when there is so much behind a wall that you can't remove it for fear of whatever is behind it taking over the whole structure. There comes a time when all you can do is hide.

"Do you think a person can forgive themselves?" My voice was pathetically weak.

His hands grasped my shoulders and he pulled me back until I was looking at him eye-to-eye.

"A person never has to forgive themselves. When they feel guilty it's because a flaw they tried so hard to hide it coming out, and they think the people around them deserve better. They think everyone would be better off without the flaw. But in the end hiding it makes it that much more tragic. A person forgives themselves when they accept that they are broken and they have flaws and they need help to be whole again. That's when they forgive themselves."

His eyes bore into mine, and I knew he knew then. His eyes begged me to talk, but I looked away. Because he wasn't right.

A person felt guilty when their flaw starting to take them over, and morph them into a monster. And instead of allowing themselves to accept this transformation, they kept it at bay. The impulse is first and foremost to protect the ones you love from a monster…even if the monster is you.

"I'm going to go take a shower," I muttered. I stood up and walked down the stairs, not looking back. Once I was in the bathroom I quickly undressed and climbed into the shower. The water was cold at first and made me gasp. I adjusted the temperature until it was comfortable, and grabbed the body wash. I washed quickly and rinsed off before reached for the shampoo. The water was so hot that the shower door was covered with a thick layer of steam.

As almost a reflex sustained from my teen years, my finger traced a heart on the steamed shower door. My finger sliced through the steam, and I stared up at the most perfect looking heart I'd ever seen before.

I tried to think of a way to save it, but I stepped back and it was already too late. The spray of the shower washed it away.

I stared at the spot it used to be as if that would bring it back. The most precious and wonderful things in life are fragile. There are things that if you step away for one moment, will dissolve as if they were never even there in the first place. And nothing could really get them back into the same state as before.

* * *

The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one. Or, that's what they say at least. But I've never heard the second step before. I've admitted it—now what? Some people think getting if out there and off your chest will just make it disappear. They are mistaken. Getting it off your chest just makes it take up residence in a larger space beside you. So instead of walking through the streets with it compacted in your chest, you are walking with it beside you and it pushes people out of the way and takes up more room then you do until eventually there is no room for you at all and you aren't you. You _are _that problem and that's when two become one. That's when two becomes the worst of the two. So what do you do to stay the better of the two?

I was pulled from my thoughts by the kettle. It whistled so high pitched that I winced. I'd finished taking a shower twenty minutes ago and I was trying to get breakfast started while Jake prepared some last minute details on his lesson plan for his class today. I didn't cook breakfast very often. I hadn't in a good eight years. But maybe the first step in fixing a problem is retracing your steps and doing the exact opposite of all the bad things you had ever done.

I flipped the top off the kettle and watched the steam tumble out like escaped prisoners. I turned the stovetop down to medium—I was about to cook eggs—and grabbed the metal kettles handle. The hotness stung my skin and my reflex was to drop it but I quickly set it on the island.

I moved over to the drawer under the stove and pulled out a skillet. I set it on the hot stovetop, spooned some butter in it, and poured Jake some coffee. I left his coffee sitting on the island and I poured some hot water in my mug over the tea bag. So far, so good. Cooking routinely seemed to be like riding a bike. It takes a while to learn but you never really forget it.

I cracked the eggs and put them in the skillet, while trying to figure out if Cole still liked them scrambled or if he now preferred them sunny side up. I decided to go with what I knew he had at least liked at one point of his life. I grabbed a fork and scrambled the yolks together as the skillet sizzled.

I'd decided to go the easy way and just serve toast with the eggs. Our toaster toasted four pieces of bread at the same time so assuming everybody would eat two pieces meant that side would only take about six minutes to prepare. I pulled four pieces of bread out of the bag and put them in their respectable toasting cubbies. I turned the dial down and pressed the handle down until I could no longer see them. While everything was cooking I put butter on the table.

Ten more minutes passed and everything was ready and on the table. I was proud of it, and I even set mugs of orange juice in front of everyone's plate.

I heard Jake's voice come from the hallway.

"What do you bet those kids won't even be ready for those skits by tomorrow," He appeared in the kitchen, his face behind a manila folder full of papers, "I should videotape the class and show their parents. I bet they wouldn't like how their money is being wasted. Damn kids."

He pulled his folder down and smiled at the sight.

"And what do I owe this honor?" He asked, sitting down in the chair beside me.

"I was bored," I said offhandedly**. **

He reached for the spoon to the eggs, but surprised me by kissing me suddenly. Not expecting to taste the kiss made it that much sweeter. I was reluctant to pull away, to end the moment. But a moment can't last forever as much as you want them to. They can only last as long as your memory and heart will store them.

We pulled away, each hiding a smile as we went about breakfast. It was comforting to me to know that even throughout all the changes my life had taken, it still felt just as good to kiss him every morning as it had all those years ago.

"Morning!" Jake said cheerfully. I looked up and saw he was addressing Cole, who had just come into the kitchen. He seemed surprised at the breakfast too. He carefully sat down in his chair.

"What's all this for?" He asked, putting a piece of toast on his plate. I shrugged.

"She was _bored_." Jake said, smiling at me. He scooped up some eggs on his fork and smirked before taking a bite. "I should get you drunk more often, you seem much happier in the mornings."

I felt his hand take mine underneath the table, his way of letting me know he was joking.

"You said you just drank a little bit," Cole said, his eyes sparkling with humor.

I avoided his glance and took a sip of my orange juice.

"I did just drink a little bit. I, however, have a very low tolerance to alcohol." I replied.

"Sure you do," He smiled, spreading butter onto his toast, "That's not setting a very good example for me, you know."

"I never set good examples. I just have to hope you are smart enough to know what I do is stupid." I joked.

"Seems like you two are on much better terms today," Jake said, "Did I miss something?"

"Nope." I lied, "Hey, did you two ever work out a punishment?"

"Mmhmm." Jake said, "Cole said bye to his electronics for a week--minus his cell phone, and he's only keeping that for safety reasons--and he isn't going anywhere with his friends for two."

That was good for Jake, I had to say. I expected him to freak out and make it even worse. Cole, who was now sulking as he aggressively speared a piece of egg on his fork, avoided his father's eyes. Jake didn't seem to mind this at all and went on cheerfully eating his breakfast.

"Well Cole is going to the mall with me in an hour, so that can go towards his punishment." I said, pushing my full plate away.

Jake smiled. I could only imagine how humorous he found this situation.

"I'm going to the mall?" Cole asked, doubt in his voice.

I nodded, "Yep. We are going to the mall to get you the oil pastels you need and I have a few things I want to look at."

I could tell he wanted to argue, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Lucky you, Cole. Of course, then again, I'm going to be dealing with misbehaving and unprepared students so maybe you really did get the better end of the deal…" Jake muttered, thinking. I patted his arm.

"Good luck with that, honey."

"Do I get luck too?" Cole asked, "I'm the one getting dragged around the mall after all."

"You don't need luck, dear. You have me." I smiled and he sighed. Oh what fun teenage sons are.

* * *

"Did you lock the doors back?" I asked Cole as he came running to catch up with me. We were halfway through the parking lot when he remembered he had left his cell phone in the car and insisted he had to run back and get it.

"Yep." He replied, tossing me the keys. I caught them and put them back in my purse.

I often forgot I was famous. When I was younger, and I had the separate identity, the notion that I was hung over my head no matter where I was. But now that it was out, I never seemed to remember until paparazzi was following me around.

The one currently stalking me and Cole was a tall, gangly bald man carrying around a camera that looked bigger than my head. I ignored him. I wondered how bad a person's life had to be before they started taking refuge in someone else's.

The mall was busy with shoppers. Spring break was coming up, and teenagers were everywhere. Girls were bathing suit shopping with friends and mothers, boys were goofing around in the foot court, and I could tell being with his mother was the last thing Cole wanted right now. I didn't exactly feel very insulted because I knew at that age I didn't want my dad going anywhere with me. But I was a little disappointed.

"Ice cream or oil pastels first?" I asked him, talking loudly over the roar of people.

"Didn't you say you had something you wanted to look at?" He asked, screaming also.

"Yeah. I want to look at the ice cream. So what's first?" I questioned.

"Oil pastels. We can get the ice cream on the way out." He decided, scanning the mall for the entrance for the art shop. We both spotted it at the same time—it was in-between American Eagle and Claire's—and we started for it. There were so many people that I literally had to politely push people out of the way. We finally made it to the mouth of the art store, and I was pleased to see not that many people were in it.

Cole went into the store and was back carrying his oil pastels in less than a minute. I followed him to the cashier, surprised at how little time that had taken up. At this rate we'd be out of the mall in five minutes.

The cashier had bright blue hair and kept popping her gum. Her lipstick was black, and it was all I took to keep my eyes off her giant eyebrow piercing.

"That'll be eighteen dollars and two cents," She said in a bored voice. I dug a twenty out of my wallet and gave it to her.

She ripped off the receipt and handed me my change.

"Your change was a dollar and ninety eight cents please come again." Her monotone voice followed us all the way out of the store and into the busy mall. We started for the ice cream cart, but a cry made me stop.

"Miley!"

Emily appeared out of what seemed like nowhere and hugged me. I hugged her back, remembering affectionately how she had stuck up for Cole the last time she was at my house.

"Hi, Emily! What are you doing here?" I asked. She looked over her shoulder a pointed at a group of people come nearer.

"I'm here with Claire and her friend. My dad didn't exactly want to come help me shop for new bras so I went with Claire instead." She explained. I nodded, and watched her face when she saw Cole. It lit up, and I couldn't help but picture them as little toddlers holding each other's small hands as they dozed off in the car.

"Hi, Cole!" She said, seeming generally cheerful. Cole smiled back.

"What's up?" He asked.

My eavesdropping was interrupted by Claire. She came up beside Emily and smiled at me.

"Hello!" She said pleasantly. I took note that Lila was nowhere in sight. I wasn't sure how to act to her. It was awkward knowing my son had impregnated her daughter.

"Hi! I hear you are bra shopping today. How fun!" Claire laughed.

"Ah, there's nothing quite like bra shopping." A joking voice came from beside Claire as a woman walked up beside her. I had never seen this woman before. She was beautiful, with dark hair and a nice tan complexion. She smiled a white smile and extended her hand.

"I'm Alyssa! It's very nice to meet you." She said politely. I shook her hand.

"Hello, Alys—"

I stopped midsentence.

A girl walked up beside Alyssa, and I wasn't sure what to say. It was the girl from the painting, and the bus stop. Cole noticed her the same time I did.

Alyssa didn't miss a beat.

"This is my daughter, Caitlyn. I heard she met your Cole earlier. She hasn't quit talking about him since then."

I ignored the creepy edge to Caitlyn's eyes and smiled at her.

"Hello, Caitlyn."

She smiled shyly.

"Alyssa is a friend I met in college," Claire said, smiling at her, "We've been friends ever since."

"That's great that you stayed in touch so long." I replied. Claire nodded in agreement.

"Claire we're going over to the food court, is that okay?" Emily asked, motioning at herself, Caitlyn, and Cole. Claire looked at Alyssa and me.

"It's fine with me," I approved.

Alyssa hesitated.

"Don't go too far, honey." She said to Caitlyn, "Stay where I can see you."

"Okay." Caitlyn replied. The teens set off to the foot court.

"Do you want to sit down somewhere?" Claire asked us.

"Sure." We replied. She led us over to a table three down from where Cole and the girls were sitting.

"How are things with Cole going?" Claire asked, looking over at them.

"Pretty good. Part of his punishment was supposed to be coming here with me, but I don't guess it's much of a punishment now." I replied, watching how both girls seemed to gravitate toward him. That was definitely something he got from his father, "How is Lila doing?"

Claire sighed and rubbed her temples.

"Not well at all. She's gotten even more rebellious since I found out. She snuck out last night."

"What did you do?" Alyssa asked her friend, interest in her eyes.

"What can I do? I've already taken everything from her and grounded her for a month. She seems unfazed by everything I do. I can't get through to her." Claire glanced up at Alyssa, "How do you keep Caitlyn so in line?"

"_I _don't. My husband does the disciplining." She replied.

"You don't yell at her at all?" Claire asked.

"No. I don't need to. Lucian has it under control most the time."

Lucian. Sounds a lot like Lucifer. Of course I didn't tell her that, but I was thinking it.

Alyssa's cell phone started ringing. She flipped it open and looked at the caller.

"Speak of the devil," She muttered. She answered it, "Hello?"

Claire and I politely looked around the mall while Alyssa talked with her husband. I couldn't help but overhear it, though.

"Calm down. Just go home." Alyssa's voice was soft and soothing as she spoke into the phone. I could hear someone screaming on the other end.

"I'm coming home. Lay down and rest, baby. It's okay."

I could make out some words as he screamed them. That's how loud he was. But after a few minutes of Alyssa soothing him, I heard his volume decrease until I couldn't hear him at all. Which was the way it should have been.

The moment Alyssa hung up, my phone rang.

We all smiled at each other and I reached into my purse. It took me a while to locate my phone amongst all the other things. I grasped it, finally, and flipped it open quickly without glancing at the caller.

"Hello?"

"Miley! Thank God. L-Listen, something terrible has happened here. Something completely awful and I," Melanie paused as she sobbed. Chills were covering me and the pit of my stomach felt like lead, "I need you to come here. I can't handle it. I'm sorry."

My heart was pounding in my ears.

"Melanie, what happened?" I asked her.

I heard her sobbing increase, but received no answer then that.

"Are you at the center?" I tried again.

"Y-yes. Please come."

I started to reply before I realized she had already hung up on me. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins like a drug. I jumped up and gathered my things.

"What's wrong?" Claire asked.

"I don't know. Something bad has happened and I have to go."

Cole caught sight of my expression and was out of his seat in a flash. He knew when something was wrong.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Something has happened. We have to get to the center." I replied.

"Okay." He said, not bothering to argue with me.

I took off in a sprint to the exit. But not before I caught Alyssa's expression. For a moment, she looked guilty. But then it was gone and replaced by a look of concern. Almost as if her guilt was her tragic flaw she had to protect her family from. Are we all pretenders?

Cole and I raced out of the doors and to the car. I was jumpy and extremely nervous. Melanie was one of the strongest women I knew. What in the world could have happened that she can't handle? I jumped in my seat and started the car. I sped the entire way to the center, not once giving a shit about the speed limit.

I pulled into my usual parking spot in the bottom level of the parking deck. It was dark and empty down there, they way it usually was. I put the car in park and tore the keys out of the ignition.

"Come on." I said to Cole.

I raced out of the car, leaving my purse. Cole followed me as I ran out of the parking deck and across the street. The center wasn't crowded with pressed which was either a very good sign or a very bad one. Cole and I burst into the doors. I didn't even stop to show my ID to the guards. I wasn't sure where I was supposed to go.

Melanie walked out of the conference room, looking horrified. I let out a breath of relief.

"Melanie. Melanie what is happening?" I asked her.

"Girls. Those girls…oh my god," She shuddered and tears leaked out of her eyes. I grabbed her shoulders and shook her, panic taking refuge in every single atom in me and weighing me down.

"Melanie, tell me what happened goddamn it!" I screamed at her.

She looked back at me and took a deep breath.

"Those two girls that were attacked earlier…they…one of them..." She stopped again.

"They what, Melanie? What?" I yelled.

"She's dead!" She screamed hysterically at me. After the words left her mouth she fell down on the floor in hysterics.

Her voice caught me off guard and I couldn't breathe for a second. Dead? How is she dead?

The nurse was already helping Melanie up as I decided to find out more. I suddenly remember Cole.

"Cole maybe you should go wait out in the car." I said quickly. I didn't know what I was going to find and I didn't want him to be traumatized.

He shook his head, his mouth set in a stubborn line.

"No. I'm going with you."

I didn't have time to argue with him.

I ran toward the room Melanie had come out of previously. I didn't even pause in opening the door.

The room was bright, and I expected to see something terrible. But all I saw was a woman sitting calmly at the table.

I shut the door behind me and moved into the room.

"Stay here." I told Cole. I walked forward carefully and sat beside her. She looked up at me with puffy, red eyes. She looked back down at her folded hands.

"Do you know where I just was?" She whispered, her voice cracking.

"No," I said gently.

She was quiet for a moment as she stared at her hands. Her breathing increased. Then, she exploded. She slammed her hands on the table and stood up so she was screaming in my face.

"I WAS IN THE HOSPITAL! I WAS IN THE HOSPITAL LOOKING AT THE BODY OF MY BABY! THAT'S WHERE I WAS!"

The woman glared at me as she sobbed. My heart was beating so hard.

"I-I'm sorry, ma'am." I said quietly.

"I got a call early this morning. Marlene was supposed to be at my ex-husband's house. I thought maybe it was her saying she wanted to come home. You want to know who it was?" Her voice was so eerily quiet and heartbreaking that I didn't know what to do.

"Who?" I asked quietly.

"The police. They told me my daughter was found dead in her bed. An overdose of narcotics, they said. Suicide was the final verdict."

"I'm sorry." I repeated, tears making their way in my eyes.

"NO YOU AREN'T! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! MY DAUGHTER IS DEAD BECAUSE SHE CAME HERE! FIRST SHE WAS RAPED AND I THOUGHT BRINGING HER HERE WOULD MAKE HER BETTER! YOU PROMISED SHE'D BE BETTER! BUT INSTEAD SOME BOYS ATTACKED HER AGAIN, AND SHE KILLED HERSELF! YOU KILLED MY DAUGHTER!"

The woman was in a rage. She kicked over her chair and all the others. I quickly jumped out of my chair before she sent the table flying over.

My tears tasted salty as they fell on my lips.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry that I will never see my daughter go to college. I'm sorry that I'll never get to h-hold her babies or watch her marry a man she loves. I'm sorry that because of your center, my daughter will not be here with me tomorrow. If you knew how that felt, you would be repulsed with yourself." She spat.

My head was spinning and my stomach was churning_. I did know. I did know. I did know. I am. I am. I am. _

Suddenly Cole had a grip on my upper arm.

"Come on, Mom." He whispered, "Come on."

I let him lead me from the room. When we reached the door, the woman stopped us.

"She was going to be a doctor!"

Cole spun around.

"I'm sorry about your daughter, but leave my mom the fuck alone. She didn't do anything to your family, and you just want someone to blame because you know you should have noticed that your daughter was suicidal in the first place. So stop blaming people who had no control over what happened."

He guided me out of the room and slammed the door. Now I knew why Melanie was so upset. She wasn't used to the guilt of being responsible for a death.

Cole led me to a bench and sat down beside me.

"It's not your fault." He told me.

He was taking care of me even when I didn't for him.

Maybe it was my fault. I should have secured the building more. I should have helped keep it safer for the already fragile souls inside of it.

"Let's go." I whispered to Cole. We walked out, with him shooting nervous glances at me every few steps. I tried to compose myself, but I was so shaky. That woman's words got underneath my skin and I wasn't sure how they were going to affect me yet. I was so jumbled up with different emotions that I could barely focus on anything.

The next thing I knew Cole and I were standing beside the car in the parking deck. I pulled my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the doors. I pulled open mine.

In my seat was a boutique of flowers. They were bound together by a black ribbon. I hesitantly picked them up. No note. I didn't sniff them, though. I'd learned enough from crime shows and real life to be paranoid about inhaling anything. I eyed them. They were small bluish-lavender flowers with five petals that looked like mouse ears arranged in a perfect circle around the center. The stems were thin and very green. The flowers in whole were beautiful. They were the same small flowers I'd seen in the painting Cole showed me early this morning.

"Forget-Me-Nots." Cole muttered.

I looked at him.

"What?"

"Forget-Me-Nots. Those flowers are Forget-Me-Nots."

I dropped them from my hands as if I'd been electrocuted. They fell to the floor of the parking deck, their beautiful coloring looking bright against the concrete floor.

There's nothing quite like disturbing subliminal messages.


	19. Break

**A/n: **The only thing I have to say is to ask you all to remember something while reading: There is always a reason behind everything. Just because it may not be known until later on doesn't mean it doesn't exist. With that said I thank my beta and my "savior" :) very, very, very much for all their help with this chapter and I wish you all (hopefully) happy readings.

* * *

**"I'm losing my mind and you just stand there and stare as my world divides." Evanescence, "Snow White Queen." **

* * *

_My feet _ached. _They ached so tremendously that I winced each time I placed one foot in front of the other. My eyes settled on the bed, and I tried to walk painfully faster so I could sit down. I hobbled over to the bed and graciously sank down on the soft mattress. I pulled my right foot—the one that hurt the most—into my lap(or what was left of it…most of it was covered by my belly) and eyed it underneath the bright lighting. My whole foot was red and swollen, and I couldn't seem to make it ache less no matter how hard I tried to keep all weight off it. _

_I collapsed back on the pillows, not even considering getting up to grab some pajamas. Thanks to my new mountain of a stomach, all I was really wearing these days were comfortable sweatpants. _

_Lying down released some of the pressure on my back, but my feet still pulsed with pain. My neck felt like it was made up of tense, painful muscles and my stomach was so huge that sometimes I'd lose my balance and start tipping forward. My breasts were swollen, and my stomach and it's contents put pressure on my pelvis and spine as I lay on my back which resulted in pain that traveled down my thigh. _

_However, in spite of all this, I was happier than any person should be allowed to be. I couldn't remember the last time I'd frowned; the last time I'd wanted to cry. All those feelings seemed surreal to me now, like I was an immovable force of happiness that nothing could affect. _

_I repositioned the pillows behind my head so I was propped up, and that I could see above my stomach. I strained my neck forward and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror that hung on the wall across from the bed. My stomach was not huge. That was the understatement of a lifetime. I never remembered getting this large carrying Cole or—_

_My train of thought broke itself off before I caused myself any pain. Maybe that was how I stayed so blissfully happy—I ignored all the bad. _

_My stomach rolled up like a mountain, most likely Kilimanjaro as Jake liked to joke, and I could barely see my forehead and eyes looking back at me. My hands rested lightly on it as I let the wonder of motherhood consume me. There's nothing quite like it, and nothing can explain it. There is no way possible to explain what it felt like to start out with just you and the person you love, and then to suddenly be three or four. To meet in one moment of pure joy, and suddenly create someone out of the two. To know that even when I and Jake died, bits and pieces of us and our love would go in the world through our children. To know that our love could create something so beautiful, something so perfect out of what seemed like nothing. _

_And then there were the joys only I knew of. The feel of the baby repositioning inside me, the kick that felt like a soft caress when it stayed cleared of my ribs. The feel of our tiny, growing baby moving an individual body part. Watching and feeling the baby grow a little more each day. I got to be part of it all. I felt it all. I grew with the baby, more emotionally than physically. There is no way to even begin to comprehend the devotion a mother feels toward her baby unless you are a mother. It's almost a desperate feeling. You want to enjoy it as much as possible, but worries and doubts cloud your mind like rainy days. What if he or she falls and I'm not there to catch them? What if they get whooping cough? What if they choke and I can't remember how to perform CPR on an infant? _

_But the most horrible, private worries of the mother are the ones that include the baby dying under her care. A miscarriage. Because then it is your fault. The guilt that came with that was unexplainable, just like everything else powerful in this world. _

"_Mommy?" _

_I looked up to see Cole standing in the doorway. I frowned. He went to bed four hours ago. I reached my hand out for him, and he walked in the room. I pulled myself (with much difficulty) into a sitting position. I crossed my legs, and he sat down in front of me. _

"_What is it, Coley?" I asked him. His eyes were wide and awake, and his blond hair didn't even look tousled. He hadn't slept at all. _

_He held out his finger. _

"_I shut my finger in the door." _

_I gently grabbed his small hand and peered at his finger. It was purplish around the __nail, and__red and swollen everywhere else. I carefully kissed it and smiled at him. _

"_There. It can't hurt anymore. There's mommy magic on it now." _

_He smiled at me and hugged me as best as he could with my stomach in the way. A quick, sharp jab to my upper stomach altered me my baby was awake. Her small foot kicked me again, and I grabbed Cole's uninjured hand. _

"_Want to feel her kick?" I asked him. His eyes stared at my large stomach, and he nodded. I pressed his small hand over the movements my daughter was making, and his eyes widened. _

"_That's a baby?" He asked me, his eyes still widened with wonder. _

"_It is. It's your little sister." I said, watching his face as she kicked harder. _

"_Does it hurt?" He asked me, curiosity sparked in his eyes. _

"_Most __of__the time, no." I said, smiling at him. He was going to make a great big brother. _

"_Did I kick when I was in your tummy?" _

"_Yes, more than she does." I replied, smoothing my hand over his hair, "But it's after midnight, honey. I think you should head back up to bed. Want to come with you and tuck you back in?" _

_The idea of putting pressure back on my feet was not a pleasant one but if he wanted me to I would. _

_He shook his head, and got up from the bed. _

"_Goodnight, baby. I love you." _

"_Night, Mom. Love you, too." He replied. I reached out and hugged him one more time before letting him walk back out of my room and toward his own. I listened until I couldn't hear his footsteps anymore, and then I eased myself back in a lying position. _

_He was growing so fast, just like his sister. Soon he would be grown up and have his own children. Soon he wouldn't need me anymore. _

_The bed shifted suddenly, and my thoughts changed course. Jake smiled at me and I smiled back. I couldn't even imagine what the day would mean when his smile didn't fix everything automatically. That would be the blackest of times. _

_He leaned over me and dropped a kiss on my mouth. I pulled my hand off my stomach and cupped it around the back of his neck, bringing his head back to level with mine. I kissed him sweetly, savoring the taste and feelings that surrounded this simple contact. His hand came up and his thumb caressed my cheek softly. We broke the kiss at the same time, smiling at each other. I couldn't remember ever saying a word but it felt like a million had been uttered. _

_Jake's hands pushed my shirt up, exposing my large stomach. Even after all this time I was surprised when I saw how large it really was. She was growing so big. Soon she would be ready to live on her own. _

_His hands smoothed over the skin for a moment, and the emotions were so thick in the room that breathing was hard. His hands rested tenderly on me, on our daughter. He rested his head lightly on the top, careful not to apply too much weight. His hands stayed splayed across the skin, and he didn't move. I wasn't even sure if he was breathing. His words hung in the air, and I found no need to say anything. I knew what he meant. _

_A soft flutter alerted me that she was waking up. Her sleeping patterns were fairly easy to get used to. I felt her stretch her little body from inside the womb, and I shut my eyes, savoring it. I knew Jake felt it too, just not as intimately as I had. _

_His hand absentmindedly stroked my stomach. _

"_A ballerina." He whispered, his hot breath warming the skin exposed. His hands traced along me with no rhyme or rhythm, but soothed the baby easily. He's always been like that. With Cole, with Joy…he'd been able to simply touch the outside of their home and they felt entirely at ease. _

_I smiled at him, and placed my hand over his left one. He pulled he hand out from under mine and put his on top, intertwining our fingers. He orchestrated, using my hand as the instruments as he stroked my hand along my stomach in a way that played her a calming lullaby. _

"_A ballerina? I was thinking a soccer player," I smiled, thinking of how hard she was capable of kicking. _

_Jake didn't speak, he just shook his head. His nose trailed across my stomach as he did so. _

"_She's graceful," He explained, placing his hand and mine flat against the place we both knew her head was. If you pressed down gently, you could feel it, hard and round above my pelvis, "And beautiful. A ballerina." _

_I stayed still as she moved again, and Jake continued his thinking out loud. _

"_Isabella the ballerina." He grinned at me, and I groaned. _

"_We are _not _naming our daughter that, Jake. And that's final." _

_He ignored me, pressing a kiss over the spot the baby's forehead most likely would have been. _

"_Sure." He agreed easily, his attention elsewhere. _

"_Less than a month now," I whispered, my anxiety coloring my tone. Jake smiled reassuringly at me. He pressed his lips to my stomach again, this time talking. _

"_You hear that, Izzy?"—I shuddered at the nickname for the name we were NOT giving her—"less than a month and you'll be here with us." My hands found their own way to his hair as he spoke. I played with it as he talked toward our daughter. Nothing made me love him more than I did hearing him talk to her. His fingers traced nonsense patterns on my skin as he thought out loud again. _

"_I'll miss this though," He admitted quietly into the room, releasing the secret vulnerability as a gift for me, "This closeness. I'll miss having my two favorite girls so close together, so easy to find. So easy to comfort at the same time." His hand applied a slight pressure, and he gently touched that faint form of her head. Once our doctor had told us what each body part should feel like, and I was far enough along, we could just touch my stomach and be able to tell what position she was in. He couldn't feel it from the inside like I could. I could even feel his hand on her head, "Always in reach." His hand touched my hand and his other hand stayed gentle on her delicate, small head to prove his point. _

_I lay there, feeling his hand cradling our tiny daughter through my skin. My heart swelled, and the idea of losing either one was unbearable. As if to agree, she jerked her small leg up and her foot connected softly with my rib. I could feel her head turn to the right, then to the left, and back to the right as she tried to relocate her thumb that must have fallen from her mouth. I glanced up at Jake, not wanting to miss his expression. He had his eyes shut, and he now rested his head on my thigh. His mouth held a blissful smile, and his hand stayed in the same position. _

"_Ballerina." He repeated softly, wonder ringing in every syllable. _

"_Soccer player." I argued quietly, not really focusing on the argument but more on her movements. _

"_Isabella." He whispered, more to her than me. Her elbow hit the womb, and he felt it. _

"_You see?" He asked, his eyes gloating as he stared at me. He must not have been aware they were moist. Or maybe he did but he just didn't care. _

"_She was hitting you with her elbow. Even she gets the joke." I replied flatly. _

_His arm reached up and his hand stroked through my hair. _

"_Isabella." He said softly. She made a small movement that bumped the womb. Possibly stretching her fingers…maybe extending her arm…_

"_Raising her hand in vote," Jake concluded, grinning at me. _

_I sighed in exasperation. The former panic of the delivery filled me suddenly, with new urgency. _

"_I'll consider that name if you promise me it will be okay." _

_He must have been surprised at the shaky, urgent quality of my voice. He pulled his hand away from my face, and moved himself into a sitting position, but left a hand on my stomach still. His eyes searched mine. I knew they were wide with fear, with worry. _

_His hand moved back to its original spot on my face, but this time stroked away the tears that over spilled my eyes. _

"_Don't be that way. Hey, now. It's okay. Look at me," His soft voice was too comforting for me to ignore. He took his hand off my stomach and cradled my face. I met his gaze. His eyes held fierce determination, "Everything will be okay. You can do this, Mile. You can. You can get our beautiful ballerina into this world. We're two weeks away from the due date; don't start getting cold feet now. That beautiful human being, that beautiful person that we created, is going to live to create her own beautiful babies." His hand stroked down the length of my face, "She's ours to keep. She won't be taken from us." _

_My hands found my stomach and they covered as much of my belly as they could. I wished it was possible to keep her in there forever, where the danger wasn't. I wanted to keep her safe and with me as long as I was here. _

_I looked back at Jake, "Promise me." _

_He lovingly kissed my lips. _

"_I promise."_

* * *

"—Miley? I know you are awake. Please stop ignoring me."

Jake's voice was quiet in the miserable silence of the room. I tore my unfocused eyes from the wall I had been staring at, seeing something quite different. My heart ached at the memory I'd relived, and my hands were shaking. How did I do this every year? How did I get through it? How did I survive the _agony_?

"I'm here." I whispered. I wasn't sure how true that statement was, though. Physically I was here…but mentally I was a million miles away.

I felt his fingertips carefully touch my shoulder.

"Good." He murmured.

In the dim light of the moonlight glistening off our silver walls, I turned around to face him. He reached out slowly, and I grasped his hand as if it was the edge of the cliff I was hanging off of.

Today was February twenty-eighth. Today made it five years since we buried her.

His hand squeezed around mine tighter, as if he knew what painful path my thoughts were going down.

This was the same setting as my memory. We looked almost exactly the same from my memory. The only difference was I was empty, in every single way possible.

It had been a six days since the suicide, and the flowers. I had failed to mention the latter to Jake, but he had helped me sort through the press and get a statement down for the former. He was good at controlling the press.

And now this.

Our breathing synchronized together as we lay quietly. I wondered what he was thinking about…I wondered how much he was hurting.

I glanced at his face in the moonlight. He tore his gaze from the ceiling and met my glance. Pain was heavy in my heart, and inhaling was a challenge.

We moved closer to each other at the same moment. He wrapped his arms around me, and I pressed my face into his chest. Underneath my cheek I could feel and hear his heartbeat. What would I do if he ever left?

"Is it getting any better than it was five years ago?" He asked quietly, his face pressed to my hair.

I painfully sucked in air.

"It's tolerable." I lied. "You?"

"Manageable."

He pulled me closer to him and I pulled the blanket over us, keeping the cool air out. In our warm, safe cave it would have been easy to imagine things were okay. But the pain was one that could not be kept at bay. It clung to us, replaying harsh memories in our minds.

"I'm going to work in the morning."

I wasn't sure why I had said the words, but as soon as I did I knew they felt right. I knew if I stayed here and allowed myself to soak in a puddle of agony it would help nothing. I needed to get out, to have some normalcy.

He lifted his head from my hair and I could feel him staring at me. He moved me back and I looked up at him.

"What? You never go to work today." He said, his voice strained.

"I need to go. I need to try and keep my mind occupied." I replied slowly.

"You don't have to go. I can call and talk to Melanie if you wish. She'll understand—

"No, Jake. I want to go. I am choosing this." I said, more sharply than I had intended.

He blinked.

"But…I want you here. With me." His voice was soft and vulnerable and I felt horrible for doing this.

"I just need to do this." I whispered, avoiding his glance.

There was a long silence.

"I don't want you to go. I don't think you should." He said.

"Well I am." I replied.

There was a long silence while his eyes studied mine, and then he moved himself away from me.

"Better get some sleep then." He said, his voice showing no emotion. I felt as if I'd been punched in the gut. I didn't mean to hurt him, I just couldn't bear to stay here under this unhappy roof today. I needed to do something normal and productive.

I rolled over on my side and prayed he'd understand in the morning, that he'd see why I had to do this. That he wouldn't be angry. I couldn't have our agony and his anger.

* * *

I woke up as early as possible in the morning.

I sat up and climbed out of the bed. I went through my normal morning rituals, trying not to let my thoughts linger on one subject for very long. By the time I was clean and in work clothes, it was only four fortythree AM. I was impatient to leave, to push this pain away from me. To be far enough away from the scene of the crime that I could pretend I was not a witness.

But I couldn't seem to pull myself away from him. He was sound asleep on his side of the bed, looking just as perfect as normal. There was a pull I couldn't explain, a gravitational law that was forcing me to him. I crossed the room silently, and kneeled down beside him. I placed my hand lightly on his cheek, and his eyes fluttered open.

"I'm going to work," I whispered. He shut his eyes briefly, and sighed. I counted to thirty six before he replied.

"Alright. Be careful, though. Please." He whispered. He grabbed my hand that was resting on his cheek, and kissed it softly.

His anxiety caused me to feel worried, also. We were two in one that way.

"I'll try." I said.

I thought he had dozed off it took him so long to reply. I watched his tense face.

"Promise me."

With a sickening burst of déjà vu, I leaned forward and tenderly kissed him on the lips.

"I promise."

I was looking to him for reassurance that my daughter would be okay all those years ago. He was looking for assurance that I would be okay.

As I walked from the room, I couldn't find it in me to tell him that my promise probably wasn't any more trustworthy than his to me had been.

I shut the door lightly behind me. The hallway was so much colder than our room for some reason, and I shivered. My bright green blouse was airy and thin and didn't provide much protection over the cold. With a last minute thought I ran back into the bedroom and grabbed a gray pullover. Just in case it was cold at my office as well.

I grabbed my purse off the table in the foyer, and unlocked the front door. I paused on the doorstep as I dug around for my keys. It was still dark outside, and the air was heavy and humid. I could feel cool gusts of wind blowing against me; a sure sign rain was coming.

"Ah ha!" I whispered as I grasped my fingers around the cold, metal keys. I locked the front door and unlocked the car doors.

I swayed in front of my door, not sure what to do. I quickly peered in each window, trying to make sure no one was hiding in the back. I ignored the small voice in my head that prodded me with painful questions. _How could someone get those flowers into your locked car? _

I yanked open my car door and quickly slid into the seat before I could change my mind. I automatically knew Jake had driven my car recently. The seat was outrageously far away from the steering wheel and gas pedal. I adjusted my seat, buckled my seat belt, and put the car in reverse.

I guessed I just wasn't acting on instinct very well today. Because I'd forgotten one of the most important rules to backing out of a driveway.

Check to make sure no one is coming up behind you.

I missed the van by an inch, literally. It had just barely moved out of my path when I whipped into the road. The large, white van sped away, as if oblivious to the fact I'd almost creamed us both in a moment of carelessness.

It took me a second to get my heart rate back down to normal. I rested my forehead on the steering wheel and breathed deeply. Once I was composed again, I carefully eased the car forward, putting all my focus into driving now.

It wasn't far at all to the center, and that I was glad for. I wasn't sure exactly what I was going to do at work today. I wasn't needed there. I was sure someone there would need help doing something. I was up for anything, as long as it kept my mind busy. Like driving. I considered, very seriously, just driving around all day. This seemed to keep my brain semi-occupied.

Instead though, I drove down into the bottom level of the parking deck. I needed to go to work.

It's disconcerting to think about how one simple decision can change your life forever, or even end it. It's even more upsetting to think that you don't know which decisions will do this. I had a classmate in high school that was the worst decision maker. She would consider every single pro and con and every single hypothetical situation before deciding anything. I'd always thought she was stupid for that. That won't keep her from making a seemingly small decision that ultimately will end it all, or start a new beginning. Fate has its own plans, and they can form in a blink of an eye around our small decisions. Left or right? Whole or one percent? The zoo or library? To go or to stay? All our decisions are owned by fate. We are just a pawn in the game. A self-righteous pawn that thinks they control something when in reality they control _nothing._

I was unhappily startled to see that same stupid van I'd almost run into was parked two spaces down from my usual spot. I had just missed the rain—it came pouring down almost as soon as I put my car in park. When my engine fell silent, I could hear the rain pounding on the parking deck roof. I could hear it splashing down on the concrete. I shut my eyes and imagined what it would feel like to stand in the middle of it, and feel the water drip on me.

I sighed and opened my eyes. I glanced around again, and took note that there was no one here but the big van and me. I remember how early it was, and decided maybe I should just relax in my car until the rain let down at least.

I grabbed my purse out of the passenger seat and pulled my iPod out. I reclined my seat and stuck the earphones in my ears. I maneuvered through the menu and placed it on shuffle. I leaned back and relaxed as songs played loudly into my head.

Shuffle was, in a way, like fate. I put it on shuffle because I didn't want the pressure of choosing. I just wanted music, and it would give it to me randomly. Fate was an unwilling version of shuffle. It took away our control and picked for us, but we never even got a chance to have a say. Unlike shuffle mode on an iPod, we don't have a normal mode where we can pick outcomes. We're stuck with whatever plays next.

I only made it through four songs before I got bored. The car was getting stuffy from the humidity outside, and shuffle was only picking stupid songs I didn't even like in the first place. I turned my iPod off and set it in the passenger seat. I lay still in the quiet for a long moment. Eventually, with nothing to distract me, my mind drifted to painful territory.

She would have been five. She would have been able to hold a conversation with me, to hug me, to be here. That little baby I'd held so close for nine months would be alive, instead of in the ground. Maybe she would have been a ballerina just as Jake insisted. Or maybe even a soccer player. Or maybe she'd turn out to be something that neither of us expected, but loved just as much. I bet she would have lots of Jake's quirks. She'd probably be protective and have an uncanny ability to calm mostly any baby in the world. She would probably hate grapefruit too, just like he did. And maybe, if I was lucky, I'd see pieces of me in her. I'd see my faults reengineered in her as good things. I'd maybe be able to place her laugh as either mine or Jake's—

I was crying before I even knew I wanted to. My tears were far and few, but reminded me of the pain I had yet to endure that was coming quickly. It just wasn't fair. I wanted her so bad. I never did anything wrong. I ate all the right foods, exercised correctly, stayed on bed rest when needed…so why did I have to get her taken from me? Why did she have to leave?

I could only hope the reasons would one day be clear. I hoped that one day all this suffering would pay off.

I unbuckled my seatbelt. I needed to get out, to work. I needed to get my mind off everything. I grabbed the door handle, and opened my door. I swung my legs out, and stood up. I turned around to lean back in the car to grab my purse, but I never made it to.

It all happened at once, and it all seemed to come from nowhere. I hadn't heard a sound, or seen anything to make me think someone was out here. However, there was.

A hand grasped my forearm with so much pressure I screamed out in pain. A hand roughly slapped over my mouth, muffling my scream. I reacted almost instantly, rearing my free elbow back to hit whoever it was in the gut. But the person caught that arm, by my elbow, mid swing and twisted it. I was mildly aware that this meant there were at least two people. I could feel my heart beating in my ears, and I struggled to turn my head, to catch a glimpse of their face. But their hand was strong, and kept a grip on my jaw so I couldn't turn my head.

I tried to kick the person from behind, but my foot always hit nothing. They did nothing for a long second, and then I felt myself being pulled.

Fifteen years of paranoid self-defense home training videos ebbed into my mind. I bit down hard on the person hand. Even when I tasted blood I kept biting down. Someone behind me cursed and I was hit on the back of the head with something blunt and hard. I wiggled frantically, trying to get their grip to loosen. They ignored my attempts. I started screaming, as loud as I could. It did no good. There was no one down here, the rain was pouring outside, and my scream was muffled.

My sobs made it harder to breathe with the person's bleeding hand covering my mouth. I struggled for oxygen, for freedom, for release. I got neither.

"Open the door," A deep voice hissed lowly. Chills of fright cascaded down my spine, and I fought for freedom with new vigor. I pulled violently against their binds, I kicked…

I'd never felt more trapped before in my life. I felt like I was put alive in a casket and buried underneath the ground. I could move a little bit, but not enough to pry open the casket. My oxygen was running low, and the creeping sensation of claustrophobia was taking over. This panic I felt was similar to the feeling of claustrophobia.

I heard the familiar sound of a van door being opened, and I wanted to kill myself right then. The van. First passing my house, then here before me. I never thought to see it as a threat above the possible wreck we could have initiated.

My body was shoved into the van. My blouse rode up, and the carpet of the van burned my bare skin as I skidded across it. Then, I was free. No hands were holding me down.

It was pitch dark in the van. I couldn't see the front window, or any windows for that matter. No light. I stayed immobile, trying to figure out if there was anyone back here with me. All I could hear was my frantic breathing. My hands blindly felt up the wall beside my head, looking for a door handle. I grasped my fingers around one, and pulled. No budge. I pulled myself into a sitting position and frantically ran my fingers all over it. I found the lock, and was surprised to see it was already unlocked. I tugged at the door desperately, a cry making its way out.

There were two new sounds that scared me. The first was a voice. The second was the silence. It was too quiet. No engine had started up.

"Child lock," A mocking, disguised voice laughed. I felt fury mix with fear. His voice came from near me.

"What do you want?" I whispered into the dark.

The answering laugh was chilling.

"It's so much easier not to know, isn't it?" His deep, disguised voice asked. I was able to locate where exactly the voice was coming from this time. Without even thinking, I lunged forward. My body smacked into another, and my fingernails frantically tore at every inch of skin I could find. I used my elbow to punch his face, and in less than ten seconds he had me pinned to the floor of the van.

He laughed again.

"War…what is it good for? Absolutely _nothing._" He sang off mockingly, his tone during hard at the end. I could move. I struggled against his grasps. He found my struggle humorous.

"This really isn't a surprise for you, is it? I figured you would have seen this coming so long ago," A hand stroked down my cheek, and I spit at what looked like his face in the darkness. My eyes were adjusting to it. There was a pause as he growled in anger.

"First the girls, then the cup and the recording, the flowers…I can't even seem to remember all the hints I gave you! I know you understood," He grabbed my face roughly, his nails digging into my flesh, "You knew what was happening. You just choose to stay ignorant and ignore them. You could even think of my hints as warnings," He snickered, "So once again, your idiocy gets the best of you. Just like before."

"Who are you?" I struggled out. His hands suddenly yanked my head up with such force I heard my neck crack. I screamed out and forced my body up in the direction he was pulling to give my neck less pressure.

I found myself staring directly into his face. I couldn't see much more than a vague outline of certain facial features.

"Who do you _think_ I am?" He spat in my face.

Why hadn't I listened to Jake? Why hadn't I stayed home?

I stayed silent, motionless.

"Is the great and noble Miley giving up?" His voice rang with fake amazement, "I never expected this out of you. I figured you'd put up a nice little fight. In the past you did, what happened to that?" A hand smacked my face. It stung.

"Oh…I know." His voice was ringing with sadistic intentions, "You probably don't even want to live anymore, do you? After those babies of yours that you let down, the babies you failed to protect. The babies that are _dead. _Today is the day of one of their deaths, isn't it? It'd be a nice little treat for mommy to die on the same day as it." He was enjoying himself. I almost considered telling him yes, go ahead. But I thought about Jake and how he would feel. I thought about what it felt like to feel responsible for someone you love's death.

"No," I whimpered.

He shoved me back down on the floor of the van. He was beside me then, resting a hand on my forehead.

"Well, don't you worry because you aren't dying today. I'm not quite so…chivalrous."

I tried to strangle my sobs, but they wouldn't stay down. His scummy hand stroked me.

"Shhh, shhh_, shhh_. You can't possibly say you didn't know this day was coming. You can't avoid something over and over again and expect to be saved from it. You can't win all the time. Just because you won the last round doesn't mean that victory will continue on a winning streak."

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to my ear.

"Let me let you in on a little secret, Miley. You aren't winning this one."

I let out a strangled sob.

"You aren't either." I whispered. There was a pause.

"Someone always wins. Even if it just means winning by being the person that lost less. I have nothing to lose. That makes me an easy winner."

And then his arms were holding mine down. I felt panic bubble in the bottom of my stomach like a pot starting to boil, and then it erupted like a volcano. It snaked up to my chest, my throat. It spread to my arms, my fingertips. I tried to shake his grip off me, I tried kicking him, I tried everything. I was back in the trapped position as before. I could do nothing to get him away from me, and he knew it.

I could see, very faintly, a smirk stretch over the faintness of his face.

"You aren't going anywhere. I'm winning this, right now. And there is nothing you can do to stop me."

I continued to fight against him. One arm kept me held down as the other grabbed a handful of my blouse. My heart was going in hyper drive. With a jerk of his arm, he pulled the blouse so hard the buttons popped off. In my peripheral vision I watched them roll away from me. I heard the fabric tear and I started screaming. I screamed so loudly I could feel the blood rushing to my head, and I was dizzy.

I knew it was pointless. If anyone could hear me from the van, they would have to be near. A sudden hope sparked in me. If I could just keep him away long enough for someone to get near enough, and I could keep screaming, someone would hear.

His lips were near my ear again, "That part wasn't really necessary, but I like to be thorough."

"No," I whimpered out. I remembered the last time I'd used that word, and compared the results. This man didn't even falter.

I kept screaming. My throat was starting to ache. I kept screaming. Surely it was almost six. I was sickened as I realized most the staff didn't come in until seven thirty AM. The only people there were the guards, and they never patrolled the parking deck. Only the center, which was across the street.

I tried to kick him, to hit him. I pushed all my weight into getting him away from me but it didn't work. His hands were touching me, and I wanted to throw up. I kept screaming.

"Would you shut up," He yelled over my screaming, "It's so annoying!"

My screaming faltered. I couldn't keep it going much longer, my voice was already hoarse. I paused to take a deep breath. Then, his hands grabbed the buttons on my pants. I started screaming again, new urgency filling me. I punched him in the head, tried to shove him off me, but he remained unmoving. I took my elbow and pulled it back, jabbing it at his neck. Right were the jugular was.

He fell away from my body, howling in pain. He grabbed his throat. I took the moment to try and scramble up. I walked on my knees over to where he was howling in pain, and punched him with as much force as I could muster in the groin. He let out another howl of pain and fell forward. I lifted my elbow and slammed it down on the back of his neck.

Then, I was pinned to the floor again. His fury must have overshadowed his pain because he was seething with anger and didn't seem to have much pain anymore. He hovered over me.

"You bitch," He spat as he punched me in the jaw. Before I could recover from the shock, he grabbed my head and slammed it down on the van floor. Pain radiated through me and my eyes watered.

"I was trying to be _nice," _He slammed my head into the floor again, "I was going to be a kind about this as possible. But not anymore. You just made everything so much worse for yourself." I grit my teeth as he shoved my head into the floor again. I was dizzy by then, and the pain was too much to handle.

I could vaguely hear him rummaging in his pocket. He made a sound of discovery, and then pressed something to my throat. It didn't take me very long to deduct from the cold, metal, sharp, thin object that it was a knife, or something similar.

"Why don't we just cut your pretty throat and see what color you bleed," He hissed quietly at me. I tried to shove him away, but he just pressed it down harder, drawing some blood.

"No, no, no. I wouldn't do that if I were you."

I kept shoving at him, trying to get the knife away from me. He pulled it away from my neck. Before I could let out a breath of relief, he had it pressed horizontally to my wrists.

"Or I could cut off your little hands and see how long it takes for you to bleed to death. If I was feeling generous I might even send them to your beloved in a box."

I couldn't stop a whimper from slipping between my lips.

"Ahh, that's your weakness, is it not? Maybe I just should have dragged him in here and made you watch as I cut him up, that would have hurt you more." He heaved a sigh, "Well, it's too late now. But who is making any promises for later?"

I stared up at him and pleaded him with my eyes. My hands were shaking and I couldn't breathe I was sobbing so hard.

He brought the knife to my cheek.

"I don't know why you are so upset. If I scarred up your pleasant face right now he'd leave you in a heartbeat."

My head shook.

An outline of a grin shadowed across his dim face.

"You don't think so? Why don't we try and find out," Before I could make a sound, the knife was pressed down and sliced through the skin on my right cheek. I screamed as the burning pain started and jerked my knees up. From his new angle this was able to hit him right in the gut. He rolled away from me, and the knife fell to the ground. I groped around the floor for it frantically, looking for something to defend myself with.

His hands moved for my pants so quickly that he scratched my stomach up in the process. I tried to shove at him again, to attack him again. But he already had them down past my knees. I kept up my frantic search.

"Maybe this will teach you some respect." He spat.

As he did, a million different stories of a million heartbroken girls filled my head. I could see their broken faces, hear their stories.

"_He reached for my pants...I said no...but he didn't listen."_

__

"He ripped my skirt off next. The cold air bit into my bare skin."

_"He pulled my dress off and said everything was going to be fine." _

He discarded the article of clothing, and I gave up fighting.

Is it better to know or not to know? I think I've just solved the eternal question. It's better not to know, because if you don't know the outcome, you can still have hope.

* * *

Have you ever had your mind so busy that it was spinning, but were not able to think at all? Have you ever had the feeling of being torn apart from the inside out? Have you ever been able to wish you were dead? Have you ever begged someone to kill you? Have you ever lost your life in twenty minutes, but still somehow lived despite your deepest wishes?

I have.

I was sitting in the backseat of my car. I could barely feel the leather against my skin, or the humidity in the small space. I couldn't move. I couldn't think. I couldn't _be_.

I wasn't sure how long I had been sitting here. Afterwards, I was left in the parking deck, and somehow I managed to crawl in here. I don't remember it. It's funny how the things I want to forget I remember perfectly. Not really funny actually, more like completely sickening.

My cheek was matted with dry blood, and my whole body hurt. I knew somewhere in the crevices of my mind that I should go to the emergency room. But I couldn't get myself to move. As much as I knew I needed to, I knew I'd never be able to get those three words out of my mouth.

It was shame, embarrassment. I remembered preaching to thousands of girls that they shouldn't feel that way, that they should tell someone. Never did I imagine it felt like this. Never in my wildest dreams.

My whole body was freezing and trembling like I was left out in the snow, not sitting in a hot car. The constant shaking never stopped. I pressed my face into the leather seat and held my breath. I imagined holding it until I passed out, and then the car suffocating me. But I could never hold my breath long enough. I always gave in and came up for air at the last minute.

Maybe it was because I couldn't die and do that to Jake. Or maybe it was because suffocating reminded me too much of those thirty minutes in that car.

The sound of my cell phone ringing made me jump. I extended my hand—it was shaking like a leaf in the middle of a thunderstorm—and grabbed my purse. I blindly dumped it out in the floor of my car, watching items roll underneath the seats. I grabbed my phone.

Jake was calling.

I let it fall to the floor of the car.

Maybe it would be better for me to just die. I didn't want to go home and have to tell him what happened. I didn't want him to feel responsible, or guilty. But I couldn't pretend things were okay. Because I couldn't even feel enough to know what my emotions were.

My phone dinged, altering me of a voice mail. I grasped my weak fingers around the cold phone, and pulled it back up. I opened it. Three text messages. All from Jake, wanting to know why I wasn't at work and why I didn't answer my phone.

I called my mailbox, staring at the wall the whole time. I typed in the password, and waited.

"Miley," His voice rushed over me like a cool breeze on a stifling day. I let out a strangled gasp that might have been a sob, or maybe a sigh, "Would you please answer your phone? I'm getting worried. They said you never came in at work. I love you. Call me back." My fingers gripped the phone tighter, and a thousand different thoughts all streamed into my head at once. I only focused on one though. I had to get home, even if only to see him one last time.

My blouse laid bloody and balled up on the floor. I had used to stop the flow of blood from my cheek earlier. I remembered the pullover I'd thought to grab this morning, and grabbed it. I pulled it on over my bruised body and marveled how soft and warm it felt against my skin. I had put my pants back on long ago. I felt along the bottom of the seat until I grabbed my keys. I unlocked the door—no child lock on this one—and climbed out. I was so scared that I could barely breathe. What if they came back? I shut my door and sprinted the length of the parking deck. I didn't care if people saw me in this state—bloody face, messy hair, barefoot—I just needed to get cleaned up as best I could. I didn't even look for traffic as I walked across the busy street. People yelled and honked their horns but it was all just background noise to me.

I came up to the guard out front. I knew her. Sharon.

Her eyes took in my appearance and she gasped.

"Oh my…" She trailed off, "What happened to you?!"

I kept my eyes on my toes. I'd gotten a pedicure with Lilly the other day, and the paint was still there perfectly. It was nice to know something hadn't been destroyed.

"I need to get to my office, please."

My voice sounded terrible to me. It was a harsh strangle of speaking. I had screamed so long that it was very hoarse now.

She ignored me, "Do I need to call in more units?"

"I need to get to my office, please." I repeated, softer this time.

"Okay…" She said, confused. She allowed me past, and I quickly opened the doors and came into the lobby. I kept my head ducked, hoping no one would recognize me.

Both the lobbyists were absorbed in something on the TV screen behind them. I kept my head ducked and walked straight to my office.

I inserted the key into the door immediately, and hurdled myself in there once it was open. I shut the door and locked it.

My office was cool and calm. Everything was in the right place, and everything was the way it should be. Except for the fact I was more than broken. Before I was able to tape myself back together again. And just like a broken mirror you tape back together, I'd never been quite the same. And now the broken pieces, the shards of glass, that I had taped back together were crumbling and breaking even more. I should have known the tape couldn't hold up. I should have known I couldn't stop the fall.

My office used to be on the third floor. We moved it down here because we need more dorm rooms up there. The whole hallway my office was located at now used to be small dorm rooms. I was moved down here, and my office and Melanie's were turned into very many dorm rooms. They were big.

But because this used to be a dorm room, it had a bathroom. We didn't make the girls use community showers here, for reasons surrounding why they were here in the first place, and each room had its own shower and toilet.

Never before did I think switching my offices would be so beneficial to me in the long run. As I undressed slowly I tried to ignore the nagging voice in the back of my head. _No, _it said_, don't take a shower. Don't wash away evidence. Go to the police. _I felt dirty and disgusting.

I walked into the cold bathroom. The shower had cheap soap and tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner, like you would find at a hotel. I passed the mirror, and stopped. I considered looking into it, to see the damage. But I couldn't make my eyes move. I kept them focused on my pink toenails.

I started the shower, and listened to the familiar sound. I didn't even bother adjusting the water. I turned it all the way to hot, and stepped in.

The water was scalding hot. In another situation I might have cried out and turned the water colder. But I just stood there and took it. My shoulder stung severely, and I let my eyes glance over at my right one. A jagged cut went from the edge of my shoulder diagonally to my shoulder blade. The knife I couldn't find must have been under me all along.

I looked away from my body and stared at the shower wall. The water was becoming less painful and more soothing as it cascaded down me. I shut my eyes, and images unwelcome filled my mind.

Then I was scrubbing. I grabbed the soap and ran it down my body, but used my fingernails more than anything to scrub. I tried to scrub it all away. The pain, the memory, the helplessness, _me_. I envisioned washing myself so much that I just fell apart and washed down the drain like the dirt I was.

I fell apart before I even saw myself unravel. Bile rose in my throat, and I tried to grab the shower curtain so I could make it to the toilet. I wrenched it back and leaned over the toilet, barely making it. I threw up until there was nothing left except me and my memories and then I heaved, trying to get rid of those too. I was shaking and my ashen hands gripped the toilet like it was a life preserve. Tears leaked out of my eyes and the water from the shower made it seem like my body was crying too. For once soul and body were in harmony with feeling, and it wasn't anything good. I collapsed on the cold, tile floor. My hands were still gripping the toilet, and I could hear the echo of the water splashing the shower in the distance. It was all background noise again, and I could see nothing. I kept my eyes shut, and the tears still leaked from them.

There was no other way to break me now. My soul was unorganized fragments of something that used to be and the only thing keeping them in semi-place was my body. Break that too and I'll fall apart. It was happening right now.

Eventually the tears on my body dried and the tears from my eyes let up. Sobs still shook my frame, but they were tearless. A reminder that I hurt so bad even my tears wanted nothing to do with it. I felt like someone had gone inside me and broke everything that was me. It was farther than the physical pain, it was the emotional.

What happened to me was really quite like stealing if you thought about it. Something that wasn't theirs was taken without permission. They did whatever they needed to do to get what they wanted when they weren't supposed to have it. The only difference was I was not store merchandise, and I could not be bought. Maybe that was what made the pull to steal even greater. Another difference was you can return what item you stole back to the store and pay a fine. My soul and sanity cannot be reestablished inside of me, and my heart cannot be replaced with an unbroken one. The more I thought about it the more differences I came up with.

Objects don't have memories.

I do.

Objects don't bleed out on the floor.

I do.

Objects don't have the power to say no, to beg.

I do.

Objects don't have the ability to have hope…to lose that hope.

I do.

Objects don't tell you what it feels like to have your world shredded apart in less than an hour.

I do.

The more I thought about it the less they seemed alike. The only similarities I could really think of were far and few.

Objects break.

So do I.

Objects get lost.

So do I.

Objects get forgotten.

So do I.

Objects get abused.

So do I.

I lay on the floor and thought about it for a minute, and came to a conclusion. Stealing and rape were nothing alike if you looked past the literal sense of taking what isn't yours, and the thought that rapists probably thought of their victim as an unthinking object.

No, stealing isn't the right comparison. Rape is to a woman as -- is to a victim. Can you solve that analogy?

I can.

Rape is to a woman as murder is to a victim. The only differences I can think of is that the murdered victims gets off easier. They only die on the outside, and don't even live to feel the pain. I die on the inside, and I am going to have to live every minute of every day I live in this pain.

How long does it take the blood from the cuts in the inside to blossom into bruises on the outside? At least on the outside doctors can slap a bandage on it and call it better. But when you are broken on the inside you are completely alone. You have no one. No one but you feels what you feel inside, and no one can help you but yourself. But how can you help yourself when just merely thinking is painful and hard?

Or rather, how can you help yourself when all you really want to do is die?


	20. Unveil

**A/n: **Sorry for the long wait. I started school on the seventh and I can count the hours of free-time I've had since then on one hand. Thank you so, so much for the reviews. Your input is always appreciated and looked forward to :)

* * *

**"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." -- Maya Angelou**

* * *

You never appreciate being able to breathe until you are being suffocated.

You never realize how simply you take things for granted until there is nothing left to take. You never realize just how _alive_ you really were until you're dead.

I was sitting on the bare bathroom floor. The water was still running in the shower and I could barely breathe the steam was so thick. I watched water droplets dance down the fogged mirror like ballerinas. They danced around, making pictures and lines. And in the mirror I saw him. Sitting on the cold, damp floor I felt him. Being alone in here…I could _feel _his presence.

The tumbling of the water as it slammed into the shower walls, doors, and floor seemed to fill my mind like helium. I focused on it and didn't let my mind wander to anywhere else. But even while guarding my mind like a child walking across the interstate I still managed to think about it. No, not think about it. More like relive it—flashbacks. No matter what I did it came rushing back to me.

The steam from the shower made my gash start bleeding again. I kept my head bent and watched drop after drop land slowly on my bruised thigh. My skin was wet and coated in condensation, and the blood mixed with that water and just slid right off my leg as if it were a waterslide. The watery blood then landed on the tile floor, caking between the tiles. I stared at the droplets on my purple thigh until I started to see letters and pictures in the blood smears. I stared at it until a fairly deep pile of blood was underneath me and I found myself wondering exactly how much blood is in the human body.

It took me longer than it should have to realize that puddle wasn't only from my cheek. The jagged cut on my shoulder and back was also bleeding profusely, and I was aware of cuts on my neck, arms, legs and stomach that were leaking blood. I wondered idly if I allowed myself to just bleed out I'd turn red. I'd look more like myself that way.

I wondered when the water was going to stop being hot. Surely I'd used up all the water in the hot water heater by now. But it kept coming—steaming and refreshing. The temperature of the bathroom was getting so hot and humid that breathing really was hard. I felt like hot and heavy stones were being laid upon my chest. My whole body must have been at least a hundred and two degrees, but I shivered like it was below zero. I felt like it was.

On the outside I was hot and extremely clean. On the inside I was cold and dirty. And I had nothing to warm me or cleanse me with. Self-loathing is a horrible, horrible thing. Before I managed to still feel a little sorry for myself. And one of the great things about feeling sorry for yourself is that as long as you are, you know you still care about yourself. The moment you stop feeling bad for yourself you stop caring and become self-loathing. I didn't feel bad for myself at all right now.

The steam and heat laid over me like a thick, downy blanket. It provided a nice fuzzy edge to my thoughts and I couldn't seem to locate my arms or legs to move them. My mind was unfocused almost as if I was tipsy. My eyes only opened a random minutes, and stayed shut the rest. I collapsed against the bathroom wall, my slice on my back screaming out in protest. Each breath I breathed in was like breathing in cotton candy. Warm, soft, moist cotton candy. It gathered in my lungs and head and made everything work so…much…harder…

My hearing stayed with me though, thank goodness. I was mildly aware that I was probably being smothered. I didn't know if steam could do that like smoke could but it sure felt like it. Eventually the pain of breathing outweighed the pain of _not _breathing. But I kept wheezing anyway. Even though this was probably like suicide I couldn't force myself to hurry the outcome anymore than I already was.

I forced my eyes open. My seeing was fuzzy and I couldn't make out details. All around me I saw bright, bright red.

Bright, bright red just like the paint Cole constantly had on his hands. Just like the blood a newborn child is brushed in when they enter this world.

A soft whimper came from me.

Bright, bright red like waxy petals of the unique but beautiful cherry red Dahlia's Jake gave me for my birthday last year. Bright, bright red like my favorite dress that envelopes me into an embrace as warm as a mother's.

Bright, bright red like the life leaking out of me onto the floor.

I tried to fight with myself then. I had so much but so little at the same time. I had Jake, I had Cole, I had my family. I could live through this for them. I could do that for them. But at the same time I knew I couldn't. Because what would I live as? I wasn't me. If I wasn't me what was I? I could be a monster. I could be anyone. But I'm not me.

Somewhere during my thinking my subconscious mind had made the decision for me. I tried to pull my body up, to go open the door. But I was so detached and almost delirious that I couldn't move.

"_Why don't we just cut your pretty throat and see what color you bleed," He hissed quietly at me. I tried to shove him away, but he just pressed it down harder, drawing some blood._

I didn't even have the energy to scream. I wanted to rid myself of the flashbacks, but that would involve riding myself of my mind. I tried to chase them away but I couldn't because they were me.

_Bright, bright red, _I thought quietly and numbly to myself, _I bleed bright, bright red. _

I suddenly heard noise. Different noises than the shower. Screaming. I couldn't make out the words, but I knew it was Jake. He always came at the last minute, when I sort of didn't want him to.

"--THAT! I'LL BREAK THIS DOOR DOWN IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME THE KEY! SHE'S MY WIFE AND SHE'S HURT! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR VISITOR POLICY!"

He was screaming so loudly that I could hear him through two doors and a shower. My mind drifted in and out of consciousness as I listened to the sound of the door literally being broken off its hinges. When the loudest sound of all filled my ears—the sound of the door crashing to the floor—I knew I should try to get up and put my clothes on. Or to stop some bleeding at the very most. But through all this I'd learned at least one thing: Trying to keep it all together is harder when you've already fallen apart.

He was outside the door now and I heard other voices. Woman's voices. Police officers most likely.

"Miley," I heard him scream over the shower, "Are you in there?"

_Yes! Come help me, Jake. Come put me back together again!_

"I'm coming in," He yelled, "Don't be startled."

There was a two second pause, and the doorknob turned. He opened the door and immediately I felt freezing air invade my suffocating sauna of sorts. I shuddered even harder as the hot mist escaped the room. I heard screaming and frantic voice.

"Get away!" Jake screamed at everyone, his voice at least three octaves too high, "Get the hell out of here, now!"

There was a painful moment of silence as he looked at me. I couldn't even imagine what I must have looked like. If I looked anything like I felt, it must have been horrible.

When Cole was four, a boy in his class starting bragging about how him and his dad built a treehouse. From that moment on all Jake and I heard from Cole's mouth was treehouse-this and treehouse-that. So one Sunday we sent him to church with my father, and Jake and I drove twenty miles to Thousand Oaks, CA. We went into Home Depot and bought building plans, wood, nails, rope…everything that we needed to make him the best treehouse in the world. We were so set on making him the best that we didn't even stop to think that maybe we weren't good enough to make the best treehouse. As we started the project we slowly knocked off each special edition we'd added on before starting the project until all that we had left to do was built a basic house in a tree. We only had two good trees near our house, and one of them was spare of branches near the bottom. But he wanted that treehouse and we were going to give it to him. Cole helped us by constantly reminding us of safety tips _("Daddy! Don't hold your thumb close on the nail!" "That hammer is more big than mine so watch out!" "Mommy do you really know what you're 'possed to be doing?"_) and all the while he buzzed around like the happiest kid in the planet. Eventually Jake and I hired a man to finish it, because we had no earthly idea if we were doing it right. The man came every day while Cole was at school, and eventually it was finish. We helped Cole on the ladder, and it all happened extremely fast. One of the boards came loose at the top, and for whatever reason, half of the whole porch caved it. Cole, extremely frightened, let go of the ladder in shock as all the wood came crashing around him. I was in shock the whole time, ice pumping through my veins. Jake darted forward to catch Cole as he fell, but he was a few seconds too late. Cole crashed to the ground and broke his arm.

That was the day Cole learned that not everything that looks solid is trustworthy, and that sometimes you can't always be caught. It was the day I learned that sometimes love isn't enough to give you the ability to save the ones you care about each and every time. All it took was half the sky crumbling above us to send us in a chaos.

All it takes is a second of not protecting someone for them to crash to the ground and break.

Jake knew I had fallen and broken the moment he saw me. He didn't just know that from my physical state of being, I knew he must have noticed the way nothing I did was right anymore. Even my breathing was broken and patchy.

"Oh my _God!"_ He screamed, falling to the floor beside me. "Miley! Miley! Can you hear me? Oh my God! Miley! Please!"

A set of fingers suddenly pressed on my neck, probably trying to check for a pulse, and I couldn't help it. I screamed and I pushed myself further back in the corner. Sobs stabbed out of me roughly and my body was shaking so hard my head hurt.

"GET SOME TOWELS!" Jake screamed at the people, "NOW!"

"I'm calling for an ambulance." A shaky voice I didn't recognize said.

Ambulance. Doctors.

My heart was beating too fast. I screamed the word no and tried to get away. But once again, I couldn't. I was too weak.

"Don't," Jake said sharply, "Don't call the paramedics, don't call anyone yet. Just get me some damn towels!"

It fell silent except for my wheezy sobs and the shower. Something soft pressed against my face and I managed to lift my heavy eyelids. Jake pressed his discarded jacket to the gash, his mouth quivering and eyes moist. But I caught a glimpse of something else in his eyes—guilt.

"I'm sorry," He whispered brokenly to me, "I'm so, so sorry. I should have seen how upset you were this morning. I shouldn't have left you alone."

His words confused me. My eyes drifted shut again. And then with a sudden pulse of understanding I realized he thought I cut myself. He thought I was trying to commit suicide.

"Here you go," A small voice said. I cracked my eyelids open. Someone was retreating away, and Jake had a pile of clean towels beside him.

Jake grabbed the first towel and wrapped it around my shoulders. My sight drifted in and out, heavy with sudden exhaustion.

He put a towel on every cut, put couldn't apply pressure to all.

"Hold this here," He instructed me softly. He gently grabbed my hand and placed it over a towel that was resting on the cut on my stomach.

With the leftover towels he began trying to get some of the blood off me. I watched the fluffy, white towel touch my skin, and then blossom bright, bright red flowers.

As he uncovered my neck, arms, and legs, he stopped breathing. I cried with more earnest now.

"Oh my God," He whispered. He glanced at the hand-shaped bruises on my body and dropped the towel in horror.

"Jake," I managed to choke out through my tears, "I hurt. My stomach, it hurts."

His eyes were wide and his hands shook.

"Someone call 911!" He screamed suddenly, his voice three octaves too high.

"Paramedics are already on the way." A voice came from my office.

Jake suddenly had me in his hands.

"What happened?" He asked me, his eyes darting from my bruises to my eyes. I drew myself back further in the corner, shaking my head. My back hurt so much from sobbing. My already sore stomach felt like it had been ripped apart.

"Someone hurt you didn't they?!" He had a furious, wild streak dancing in his eyes, "Tell me who hurt you! Tell me what they did to you!"

_I was raped. _

I opened my mouth to say it but nothing could come out. I shook my head at him, another sob tearing at the almost-silence.

"You didn't do this to yourself, did you?" He asked, his eyes frantically trying to lift answers from mine.

"N-no," I sobbed. The sound of sirens sent my heart fluttering. Jake pulled his T-shirt off and lifted my arms up, pushing each through the sleeves one by one. He dressed me like I was a baby, or paralyzed. It wouldn't have been that big of a stretch.

"I'm going to pick you up," He said carefully, warning me. I nodded. His arm slipped under my legs, and he pulled me up into his arms. He cradled me like I was a newborn baby. His right hand held my head gently to his shoulder, and I could hear his heart beating. It helped so, so much. I kept my eyes shut and listened to his heart. I counted the beats. One…two…three…four…five…six…

* * *

The moment I was conscious again I was in pain.

Every inch of my body ached and my heart hurt even worse. I could hear people talking in hushed voices. I picked Jake's out easily from the group.

I forced my eyes open to find myself staring at the ceiling. I immediately knew where I was by the smell. No other place had the same balance of bleach and death.

"Jake?" My voice was rough and quiet, but he heard. I spotted him at the door, and he spun around at his voice. He was by my side quickly.

"Miley! Thank God!" He exhaled deeply and sat down in the chair beside my bed. He had his hands balled up in fists, and I extended mine slowly. He lifted his and I gently grasped it. He smiled weakly at me but I could see the frustration in his eyes.

I looked questionably at him.

"I want to hold you, or kiss you, but I'm afraid I'll hurt you or that you don't want me to." He admitted, his face deep with emotion as he looked at me. I watched my own chest rise and fall as I breathed, my thoughts suddenly dead in my mind.

"I love you," I said, my voice shaking. I gently pulled on his hand that was intertwined with mine, and he stood up. I weakly held out my arm and he understood. He leaned over and hugged me lightly, his hand stroking the hair on the back of my head. My face pressed into his shirt—a new one than I'd been impromptu dressed in—and it didn't hurt at all to be touched. I'd feared being touched by anyone would hurt me but his touch didn't. Not at all. Maybe I was still the same person in little ways.

Over Jake's shoulder, I noticed three figures lurking at the door. One a doctor, judging by the uniform, and the other two were detectives judging by the semi-casual wear and guns on their belts. My heart stopped.

Jake felt me go rigid and immediately pulled back. He noticed my glance and looked over in the direction.

"Not now," He hissed through clenched teeth. I was taken aback by the fierceness in his voice. The doctor ignored him and the detectives made a move to step forward.

"Take another step forward and I'll sue you," Jake threatened lowly, glaring at the detectives.

The blond, chubby one smirked.

"On what grounds?"

"Entering a private examining room without the consent of the patient." He growled. I was sure he was shitting them—he didn't know anything about laws—but either it was true or they believed him because they stopped in their tracks.

"I, on the other hand, have every right to be in here," The doctor exclaimed cheerfully, "How are you feeling Miss Miley?"

_Horrible. Dreadful. Abhorrent. Horrendous. Revolting. Appalling. _

"Fine." I lied softly.

The doctor was an elderly woman who looked very kind. She smiled warmly at me.

"You've only been asleep for about three hours. You drifted in and out during the stitches, but looks like you're all here now!"

"Stitches?" I looked at Jake. I hadn't remembered anything since Jake found me, much less getting stitches! He lightly touched my forehead in a comforting gesture and smiled weakly at me.

"On your face, back, and stomach. All the others weren't that deep."

My hand felt my right cheek, and sure enough I came in contact with a bandage over it.

"You had forty three stitches in your cheek, fifteen in your stomach, and sixty nine in your back." The doctor supplied. I shut my eyes in what might have been a wince if this was one day ago and physical pain still hurt me at that level.

"And…" The doctor stopped. She glanced at Jake. I froze. She continued.

"There was some very…upsetting bruising on your body, Miley," She started gently, "Hand marks on your neck, your thighs, your upper arms…and Jake said you were complaining about a very painful stomach."

My nose, eyes, and throat burned. I stared down at the blanket covering me and my hospital gown clad body.

"How did you get those?" She pressed, her voice kind as if she were talking to a little kid.

I clasped my hands together to try and hide their shaking. I glanced up nervously at Jake. He placed his hand on top of mine and nodded encouragingly.

The chubby, blonde's partner stepped forward. She was tall with beautiful chocolate colored skin and hazel eyes.

"I'm Detective Ella. I know it's hard. But if something happened to you, you need to tell us. We can help you."

Who did she think she was? God? Only God can help me. Or actually, I don't even think he can. I need someone who can erase my memory, or send me back in time. If I could re-do today I know what I'd do. I'd stay home with Jake. We'd lay in bed and talk about her for the first time. He'd smile and I'd melt instead of breaking apart at the seams as I had now.

"Miley?" I looked at Jake's voice. His eyes burned into mine and I couldn't breathe for a moment.

"Did someone hurt you?" He asked me, his hand tightening over mine in a compassionate squeeze of comfort.

I looked away from him and glanced at all the people in the room. The detectives were nervously awaiting my reply, and the doctor appeared politely disinterested.

I looked down at my lap.

Detective Ella's partner sighed.

"You can tell us," She said, "Whoever did this to you won't kill you. I promise. Just tell us what happened."

"Miley you can do this," Jake whispered to me, "Just tell us what happened. Tell us who hurt you."

A sob crawled up my throat and I tried to swallow it back but I couldn't. It worked its way out and I shut my eyes as I cried. I didn't want to see their stupid, pitying glances.

Jake's hand stroked my hair and Detective Ella patted my leg. She tried to ask me something but I just shook my head.

"No one hurt you?" She asked me, doubt in her voice.

I didn't answer yes or no. I had the freedom of speech. I didn't have to say anything. I didn't have to.

"Miley," The doctor interjected, "It's very important for you to tell us this. If you were indeed raped as our detectives here believe, you need to get an examination and rape kit if you wish. Your stomach could be hurting because of internal damage and if you don't get examined you'll never know."

Her words sliced me like glass. Examination? Rape kit? Hadn't I been through enough?

"No," I said suddenly, looking up at them, "No one r-raped me. I'm fine. Just leave me a-alone."

I cried as quietly as I could. Jake stood closer to the bed and I took his left hand firmly in my right.

The pudgy, blonde one was suddenly beside me. His face was sarcastic and cynical.

"No one raped you?" He asked quietly, "Then how do you explain the bruises on your thighs? The way they were—the fingers near the inner thigh and the palms near the outer—is exactly how they would look if someone grasps them and pulls them apart—"

"_Stop_." I begged, my head spinning and my stomach churning.

He ignored me.

"And the bruises on your arm suggest you were forcefully pinned down to the floor. The scratches on your arms are from where you tried to struggle, and got scratched in the process. The cuts are most likely from a weapon, a pocket knife by my guesses, which was used to threaten you. Did you know rape carries a three to five year sentence but rape with a weapon is fifteen to twenty years? If you tell us who it is we've got him for most his life. But you've got to tell us."

I shook my head.

"Nothing h-happened to me."

He was furious.

"You expect me to believe all these bruises and cuts are from accidents? Or maybe you just like it a little rough—

"Shut the hell up you _bastard_," Jake yelled, rounding on the man. He got face to face with him, anger emitting from both of them like perfumes, "She doesn't have to tell you anything and you sure as hell don't have a reason to harass her. She's the victim. Catch up on your Law and Order."

Jake glared at him one more time before taking his spot at my side. The detective merely rolled his eyes, obviously not aware of how close Jake was to hitting him.

"You can go now," I muttered, wishing the man away with all my being.

"Just one question," He started. And before I knew it he was pulling back the blanket and I kicked him in the face.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I shrieked, trying to get out of the bed to run. Jake kept a firm hold on me and I thrashed in his arms.

"Shhhh, it's okay. Shhh," He tried to comfort me.

_I tried to strangle my sobs, but they wouldn't stay down. His scummy hand stroked me._

"_Shhh, shhh, shhh. You can't possibly say you didn't know this day was coming. You can't avoid something over and over again and expect to be saved from it. You can't win all the time. Just because you won the last round doesn't mean that victory will continue on a winning streak."_

_He leaned forward, pressing his lips to my ear._

"_Let me let you in on a little secret, Miley. You aren't winning this one."_

I brought my fist to my mouth and bit down on my knuckles, trying to stop the flow of sobs. Jake suddenly had the rail off the side of the bed he was on and I was leaning into him, sobbing into his chest.

"Don't let him touch me," I cried softly to him, my tears soaking into his shirt, "Please."

His hand held my head firmly in place, right above his heart. It said what he didn't: _you'll always belong here. _

"Get out of this room now," Jake said, his fury making his voice quiver, "Get out and leave my wife alone. Now or I'm calling my lawyer."

"You see?" The detective said softly, "I was right. I was right and you know it."

Jake inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly.

"Con-_fucking_-grats. I'm glad you are so proud of yourself for being right about my wife being hurt. Get out of my sight."

"You have our card. Call if you want to give us any information or if you wish to press charges. Goodbye." Detective Ella said.

I didn't even hear them over my sobs.

"Is there anything you need, sweetie?" The doctor called from the corner. I'd forgotten she was here.

"I want to go home," I sobbed to Jake.

"She wants to go home," He repeated. I heard her sigh.

"I guess we can't really keep her. She has every right to refuse treatment. Alright. Check out whenever you like. Come back in seven to twelve days to get the stitches removed. Make sure to clean them and change the bandage every night. On your checkout form I've stapled a prescription for some pain medicine, I suggest she takes it. Good luck."

Why did she talk like I wasn't even in the room? Or like I was an animal that she thought couldn't comprehend her? For a moment I almost wished I was an animal. They are cared for more. Why is that?

Why is it that humans hold a higher sympathy level for animals? I don't know about you, but I do know various people and myself that can stay dry eyed when a human dies in a movie, but sob if an animal dies.

Is it because animals can't fight back? It is because they can't talk? Is it because they've never done anything to hurt the villain but are persecuted anyway? Is it because the villain thinks they are unfeeling and unthinking creatures?

If so, how is that really any different than humans?

I cried until I couldn't anymore. Jake had somehow ended up on the bed beside me, his arms around me and his face pressed into my hair.

"Can we go now?" I whispered softly to him.

"Yes, we can go now, honey." He kissed my head gently and then removed himself from me. He left to go check me out, shutting the door behind him. I lay in the bed, suddenly realizing just how alone I was. There were no sounds coming from anywhere that I could hear. My hands threaded around the blanket in sudden fear.

A sudden knock came on the door. My breath hitched and I lost all ability to move. The door swung open slowly and a scream was already in the process of budding in the back of my throat.

It was a candy-striper.

Holding a bouquet of familiar blue flowers. She smiled nervously at me and placed them on the tray.

"T-these were dropped off for you."

I didn't take my gaze off the flowers.

"Thank you." My voice was toneless. She quickly left the room.

My hand hesitantly reached out for the flowers. I grasped the stems gently, and a white letter fell from the inside and onto my lap.

I couldn't breathe.

My fingers moved underneath the milky flab of paper and tore the envelope open. I reached inside and pulled out a piece of white paper with a typed message on it:

I TOLD YOU. FORGETTING ME IS NOT A POSSIBILITY. IT'S NOT AS EASY AS TOSSING COAL INTO A FIRE AND WATCHING IT BURN…HA, HA, HA…GOOD LUCK DECIPHERING THAT CLUE.

Jake appeared at the door pushing a wheelchair, a nurse following in suit. He spotted my expression, the flowers, and the card and hurried to my side. He grabbed the flowers in sudden fury and tore them to shreds with his hands until all that was left was a single petal. I thought the words as he let the flowers fall to the floor: _he loves me, h__e loves me not, he loves me. _

"I got flowers this morning," He told me, "right after you left. Cole saw them and told me what they were, and how you had reacted and how they were in your locked car. I knew something was up then and I tried calling you but you didn't answer. That's why I went to your work. And now…" He shook his head. "Why can't they just leave us alone? Haven't they destroyed enough?"

They'd destroyed almost all they could.

My head started spinning and I gasped. I picked the letter up from where it had fallen in my lap and re-read the words over again. Jake read it over my shoulder. Both of us paid special attention to one word on the page: coal.

Jake angrily shoved the letter in his pocket.

"Let's get you home." He whispered. The nurse, who was shamelessly eavesdropping, moved forward to make sure I didn't fall getting into the wheelchair. Once I was safely seated, Jake pushed me away and out of the hospital. The nurse waited with me while he pulled his car up. I assumed one of the people at my center had brought his car here while he was in the ambulance and hospital with me.

He put the car in park and came around to the passenger side. He opened my door and helped me into the seat. He buckled me in while the nurse rolled the wheelchair back in the hospital.

Once we were on the road, heading home, it got harder. The silence pressed into us and the urge to tell him was extremely potent now that we were all alone.

"Jake?"

My voice shook. He glanced over at me, his expression unreadable but his eyes wet.

"Yes?" He asked quietly. He reached over and took my hand.

My heart thumped in my ears and head, and my body ached but I didn't chicken out. I glanced down at our hands intertwined and knew he deserved to know just as much as I wanted him to know. He only assumed right now. He didn't know what happened.

"Someone did hurt me," I struggled out. I lifted his hand and pressed it to my face. It was so warm compared to my cold cheek.

He stopped breathing.

It took a moment but then I heard him inhale again.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." He said softly.

I squeezed my eyes shut as a wave of pain hit me. It was getting to a point where distinguishing physical pain from emotional was difficult.

Tears slid down my face and I got suddenly dizzy.

I shut my eyes. I got that horrible, frustrating feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was the feeling of wanting to tell someone something so bad but nothing being able to get the words out. I fought with myself for a good three minutes before I found the words buried in the muck and pulled them clean.

"I..."

But I stopped because I couldn't say the words. I stopped because the pain hurt so badly. I stopped because I didn't want to hurt him. I stopped because I didn't want to have to answer questions.

I stopped because this was the only thing I couldn't be forced to do.


	21. Gravity

**A/n:** Thanks goes to southern-gurl94, All-American Dork06, carolannelizabeth, megomyeggo, nysunsetangel, NickyJ is off dachain, Sydney (pretty name!), fictiongirl101, speedsONEandONLY, chloe10115, and aprilrainer15 for the amazing reviews :) I appreciate ya'll taking the time to leave your thoughts and comments. Seriously, words can not express the gratitude I feel. Oh and of course thanks goes to my beta (SVUlover) who is amazing on every level :)

Erm...language warning for this chapter! Those who get extremely offended over harsh profanity should click away from this page o.O

* * *

**"History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again." -- Maya Angelou.**

* * *

By the time we were halfway home, worry was drilling at the pit of my stomach.

"Where is Cole?" I whispered tensely.

"He was inviting some friends over when I left," Jake said, his voice just as strained as mine. He pushed down harder on the accelerator.

I stared out the window, watching the beautiful houses pass me. Perfect lawns, perfect landscapes, perfect houses, perfect people. I'd never be anything close to their perfection.

I leaned my head against the window. I was still so tired, so worn out. Every inch of me ached and everything felt almost surreal. Was this really happening to me?

I let my eyes snap shut. I listened to the sound of the car as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I woke up immediately when the car came to a full stop in the driveway.

I unbuckled my seat belt, and Jake opened my door.

"Can you walk?" He asked me. I nodded even though I had no idea if I could or not. He offered his hand and I took it. He helped me out of the car.

Standing hurt. My legs hurt badly and I grimaced. Jake kept a steady grip on my shoulder, obviously seeing how unsteady I was.

He gently maneuvered me forward and I walked in small, measured steps. It took a lot longer than it should have because it hurt. He helped me up the steps and I noticed he was leading me to the side door. I wasn't sure why but I'm sure there was a good reason. He tried the doorknob, and it was unlocked. I wasn't sure what to make of this. He pushed open the door and the familiar smell greeted me like presents on Christmas morning. I inhaled the smell of comfort. It was a mixture of the laundry detergent we use and the soaps. It was everything we were condensed into an aroma.

He helped me into the coat room and pulled the door shut behind us. It was dark in here, the only light coming from the small window over a shelf holding shoes. Jake pulled the coat room's door open and helped me into the kitchen. The tiled floor was freezing beneath my bare feet. I heard multiple voices coming from the living room. Jake walked us past the hallway that led to the living room and straight into one of the guest bedrooms that was right off the kitchen. He carefully eased me down on the bed and I looked at him in confusion.

"Why am I here?" I asked him quietly.

"I didn't want all those people asking you a whole bunch of questions," He explained. I immediately understood. To get to our bedroom we would have had to pass all the teenagers. Teenagers who will sell any story to the press for the right price.

"What clothes do you want me to get you?" He asked me, eyeing the itchy hospital gown I'd come home in.

I leaned back against the pillows, the stitches in my back throbbing.

"Something clean and soft." I answered, not being able to picture any certain clothing item I wanted. He touched my face in a loving gesture for a moment, then quickly exited the room. I glanced around the dim room, trying to remember the last person who stayed in here. It had to be at least five years ago when my family from Tennessee came for Christmas. It was a very interesting Christmas and, needless to say, we haven't invited them back since.

My eyelids were so heavy. I just wanted to sleep and forget about this. I wanted to forget about what happened, I wanted to forget about my pain, I wanted to forget everything.

I was drifting off by the time Jake was back. He'd changed his shirt also. The one he'd changed into at the hospital must have been one from the gift shop. Now he was wearing a green T-shirt that made his eyes look amazing, something even I could appreciate. He laid my clothes down beside me and hesitated.

"Can you get dressed okay?" He asked me softly. I reached for the pile and he took that as a yes. He politely left the room, shutting the door behind him. I reached behind me and tried to untie the hospital gown. With much difficulty I gotthe top one undone. I tried to get the one that went around my back undone but it was tied in a tight knot and my fingers were too weak. Once again I was helpless.

I tried not to let it upset me but it did. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't fight that man off, I couldn't do this. I couldn't keep another man from touching me and now I was tarnished and impure. I was weak and didn't even deserve to live.

"Jake?" I gave in, calling his name. He wasthere in a second, worry in his expression. I sniffed and willed the tears away but they gathered at the corners of my eyes and leaked down my face.

"I can't get this knot undone."

He looked relieved that he could fix what was wrong this time. He moved the pillows and sat behind me, trying to get the small knot untied.

"I was too weak," I whispered into the silence. We both knew I wasn't just talking about the knot, "If I'd been stronger everything would be okay right now. It's my fault."

I heard his breath catch and then he had me in his arms. His fingers carefully pushed my hair back from my forehead and he pressed his lips to it. He kept his face there, his warm breath warming my skin. My heart hurt even more and my lips were salty with tears.

"This is not your fault in any way or form. Please don't ever say that it is. This is someone's fault all right but it's not yours. It's the bastard's that hurt you." His words were strong and choked with emotion. I didn't deserve someone like him.

"And you are not weak. Some things are just stronger in different ways," His hands grabbed the knot again and he pulled lightly. There was a small ripping sound and he dropped the tie in my lap, "And those things will be ripped apart."

His voice was full of threat that I knew he'd act on. He made a move to get up but my hands grabbed his forearm in panic. My voice was full as I tried to talk.

"Please don't go."

He sat back down. He worked through the tangles in my hair with his fingers while I changed into my clothes, trying not to look at my own body. I felt better once I was in the clothes. They were my favorite, old pajama pants and a soft T-shirt. He knew me so well but not at all at the same time. I felt better with undergarments and my own clothes on, and I even felt less tired. His finger softly brushing through my hair felt comforting and relaxing. I felt good as long as I heard Cole and his friends in the living room. Everyone was safe.

I was about to drift off to sleep when the noise suddenly stopped completely. The sound of the TV was turned down and all the teenagers were whispering. Jake noticed when I did, and he moved off the bed, leaning me against some pillows.

"I'll be right back," He told me, going to check on them. I was already sitting up and swinging my legs over the bed.

"I'm coming."

He hesitated, torn between making me stay for my own good or letting me do what would make me happy. He nodded and I walked slowly toward him, wincing at almost every step I took. I could see the pain in his eyes before he cleared his throat and turned away. He let me walked ahead of him and he followed close behind in case I fell. I crossed the kitchen as quickly as I could and sped up as I reached the hallway.

When I entered the living room, everyone looked up. Emily was the first one to say anything.

"Holy shit!" She jumped up from the couch and ran over to us, "What happened to you?!"

I ignored her question, my eyes scanning the crowd. Cole wasn't in the room.

"Where's Cole?" I demanded, eyeing each teenager in the room.

"C took off upstairs 'bout ten minutes ago. Ain't seen him since," A boy muttered, his friends nodding in agreement. I turned from them and walked toward the stairs. Climbing those hurt worse than walking and I clenched my fists and dug my finger nails into my palm in pain as I climbed. Jake was right after me, offering to carry me every three steps. I shook my head each time.

I reached the second floor landing and made a beeline for his room, noting how quiet it was. His door was open and I didn't waste any time walking in.

The sight was one of the worst things I'd ever seen and I will never get out of my mind.

Moose was lying motionless on the floor, and Cole was hunched over his body. I bit down on my lip, trying to keep from crying. I heard Jake sigh behind me.

"Shit," He whispered. Cole looked up slowly, his face distorted in pain. His eyes met mine and he sniffed.

"Moose is dead." He whispered. He turned away from us and wiped at his eyes. I walked over to them and collapsed on the floor. I pressed a hand to Moose's body. He was cold. I tried to keep myself together for Cole, but it was hard. Moose had been a part of this family for so long. He held loyalty to me until Cole was older, then made it clear that Cole was his favorite person. I remembered him as a little puppy, running out of his cage and jumping into my lap. I remembered how Cole and Moose were inseparable as children and even now as they got older. I cried softly as I thought about the bag of dog food in the pantry that Moose would never eat.

"I'm so sorry, Cole." I whispered, tears pooling on the St. Bernard's fur.

Jake was suddenly beside me, his fingers pressing down on Moose's neck. I could see the desperation in his eyes as he tried to find a pulse.

"I'm sorry," He whispered to his son, rubbing a hand down his own face. Cole just stared down at the faithful companion.

"It's my fault," He whispered, "I was downstairs. I should have been up here. I might have been able to save him if I was."

"He was fifteen," Jake whispered gently, "he's had the best life a dog could ask for. Don't blame yourself over this."

He was saying that a lot lately.

"I was supposed to take care of him," Cole's eyes met mine and I felt a knife stab at my heart when I saw a tear on his cheek, "I was supposed to take care of him and I let him die."

I leaned forward and pulled my son into my arms. Between us was the body of the animal we'd both loved. Cole didn't make a move to pull away, and I knew he just needed to know someone was there. He was like Jake when it came to crying. He tried not to show that he was but I could tell. My hand rested on his hair. The same hair that used to be so thin and smelt of Johnson's baby shampoo was now thick and smelt of cologne of some sort.

As Jake put a blanket over Moose's body I couldn't help but think that he probably passed around the time I'd given up fighting in that van.

Cole pulled away after a few more seconds, and he studied my face.

"Jesus Christ," He muttered, noticing the injuries. Neither Jake or I made a move to correct his language even though we should have.

"What happened?!"

I glanced down at Moose and then back at my son.

"Revenge for fifteen years."

No one asked me to clarify.

* * *

Jake said he'd have to get some of his friends to come over and help him carry the two hundred pound St. Bernard outside. He was planning to bury him on the right side of the house, underneath one of the oaks we'd tried to build the treehouse in that time. In a way I thought it was appropriate. That was where his main human had taken a fall, and now Moose was taking his fall there also. He said it was a good idea to go ahead and bury him today because the ground was so soft due to the rain.

I was lying in my bed. Jake insisted I rest here while he called some friends. I had the blinds and curtains shut. It was pitched dark and I was burrowed underneath the many blankets.

I sobbed into the mattress, glad I could fall apart in privacy. I was crying for Moose, for Cole, for Jake, and in pain. I had been stupid resisting an examination at the hospital. With all my pain something had to be seriously wrong. I made a numb decision in the back of my mind that if the pain wasn't better by morning I'd call my doctor. The very thought sent shivers of fear up and down my spine.

I cried myself to sleep eventually, so drained emotionally and physically that there was nothing else I could do. I didn't dream. I slept deeply, but constantly in pain even when I wasn't conscious. I'd jerk awake suddenly at random times, pain making me wince. I'd always just grit my teeth and force my eyes shut again. The fourth time it happened, I was extremely sick to my stomach.

I shoved the blankets off me and ran into the bathroom. I didn't even make it to the toilet. I tried to throw up into the sink but there was nothing to throw up. I wept as I heaved over the sink, wishing my body knew that didn't make this kind of pain go away like it did a tummy ache.

I looked up without thinking and almost fell over in shock. The girl staring back at me in the mirror was horrible. I had dried blood all over my face and neck. My eyes were puffy and red. My bandage was covering my stitches but I had various cuts and bruises on me. I pulled up the sleeve of my shirt slowly, and rocked back on my feet in pain. It was a perfect hand mark that was the deep purple of a violet. I looked away in disgust at the scratches surround those bruises. I looked at my other arm, not at all surprised to see the same thing.

I shook as I slowly pulled my shirt up, eyeing my upper body. New bruises colored my skin, and there was bandage on my stomach from where I got the stitches. I pulled the waistband of my pants down slightly, eying my abdomen. I spotted the scar from the gunshot wound easily, and was disgusted to see a dark bruise forming over it. Was it coincidence or planned that a bruise was right there? I inhaled deeply and placed a shaky hand to my abdomen. I pressed down gently with my fingers. It hurt, but not as badly as I feared it would. It only brought tears to my eyes and didn't even make me scream out in pain. I prodded it lightly, finding the area that hurt the most. I held my hand over it, applying pressure. It just hurt terribly, I didn't feel anything wrong. But I wasn't a doctor in the least. I had no idea.

I considered leaving the bathroom now, but I knew I needed to see it. I needed to know what he had done to me. I pushed my pants down until they were at my ankles. It was just as bad as I expected it to me. Dried blood, dark bruises. I pressed my hand over the hand bruise on my leg. The hand was almost double the size of mine. The doctors and detectives were right. I needed to tell them. I needed medical treatment; I needed to get this person caught.

I wish I could explain why I couldn't.

I pulled my clothes back on, turning away from the mirror. I was broken, tarnished, destroyed. I was disgusting. My mouth quivered. Jake deserved a woman who wasn't touched by another man. I wasn't her.

When I exited the bathroom Jake was standing in the doorway of the bedroom. His face was pressed into a hard line.

"Miley, the police are here again. They want to talk to you. I can send them away if you'd like." He offered.

I shook my head once and he nodded. He motioned for me to follow him. I walked out of our bedroom and down the hall. He led me into the lounge.

The same detectives from the hospital were sitting on the couch, waiting for me. I faltered.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to." Jake whispered. I took a deep breath and walked into the lounge.

"What?" I asked quietly.

Detective Ella stood up, "Hi, Miley. My partner and I were wondering if you'd mind coming down to our precinct to talk for a little while."

Was she kidding?

Jake must have been thinking along the same line. He glared at her.

"Can't you just leave us alone? Miley doesn't want to talk to you. Now leave."

Detective Ella glanced my way, "Is this how you feel?"

I stared at my toes.

"I don't want to talk."

Her partner stood up.

"I'm Detective Shorehold. I'm sorry about my behavior in the hospital, that was very unruly of me. The reason we are bothering you again is that…since you've got turned into the hospital we've gotten three more assaults on our hands. All following after yours. These women are distraught, one even tried to commit suicide in front of her child! We know something happened to you. And we know you either heard the man's voice or saw his face. Please. Please give us some information. Please ease these woman's minds so they can sleep at night."

"How do you know it's the same person?" Jake asked him suspiciously.

"Same part of town. Similar injuries." Detective Ella said. She turned to me, a desperate hint in her eye, "Please come tell us what happened. We won't tell anyone else, we just need a lead. We need to catch them until they strike again."

_Them. _She knew.

"_Them?_" Jake asked sharply, "Are you telling me there was more than one sick bastard hurting her? Is that what you're saying?"

Detective Shorehold placed a hand on Jake's shoulder.

"I know you're pissed. If someone hurt my wife I'd want them dead or in jail suffering for the rest of their life. You know how rapists are treated in jail? Not very well. They are the lowest of criminals according to all the others. If she can help us find this man…we can make his life as painful as those minutes he was hurting your wife."

He was a very persuasive talker. Jake was shaking in rage and confusion. He was looking between the detectives and me.

"Do you want this to happen to someone else?" Detective Ella asked me gently. I thought about all the pain I was in and my bottom lip trembled. I shook my head slowly.

"I'll go," I whispered, "But I'm not promising anything."

They both exhaled.

"That's all we ask."

* * *

Jake and I rode in our own car to the precinct. I had called Alana and she came over to watch after Cole. I felt horrible for leaving him alone, once again, but I didn't know what else to do. Jake drove slowly behind the cop car, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly in anger. I had to ease his mind.

"Jake?"

He kept his eyes forward, "Yes?"

"Only one man hurt me." I whispered. Weak relief was apparent on his face.

"But that detective—

"Only one." I interrupted, my tone signifying this was the end of the conversation. He nodded, looking a tiny bit more at ease. You know things are bad when knowing only one man raped your wife makes you feel better.

We pulled into the building parking lot. Jake put the car in park and turned the engine off. He came around and helped me out of the car even though I didn't need him to anymore. I walked slowly and painfully still but it was getting better.

We were led into a busy room. The walls were gray and there were desks all over the place. Phones rang off the hook and people ran in and out quickly.

"Follow us."

The detectives led us down a small hallway and stopped in front of the door.

"You can go on in, Miley." Detective Ella said, holding the door open for me. I was already in the room by the time I realized Jake wasn't behind me.

"Where's Jake?" I asked nervously.

"He's just outside, don't worry. Now why don't you take a seat?"

I lingered near the door, and then walked over to the table. I sat down in the chair and Detective Ella sat across from me.

It was quiet while she studied my expression, most likely trying to decide between the good cop bad good façade.

She leaned forward on the table, folding her arms on the surface.

"Can you tell me what happened today?"

I fiddled with my hands, and glanced at the black glass on the wall. Obvious two way mirror. That meant Jake was probably behind it. I wish I could see him.

I looked back at the detective.

"I woke up and got ready for work." I said quietly.

She nodded.

"Was this just like every other morning? Or did something happen early on?"

I sighed deeply, my heart beating erratically. It was really cold in this dreary room.

"Jake begged me to stay home today. He wanted me there." I looked up at met her eyes. I felt tears fill mine, "I should have listened to him."

She glanced at the black window, then turned back to me.

"Why did he want you to stay home?"

I sniffed and wiped at my eyes.

"Today is the day our daughter died."

The words hung in the air and she grimaced in what I figured was my pain. She put a professional face back on quickly though.

"Why didn't you stay home? It sounds like it was important to him."

I let the silence drain in.

"Sometimes I forget that it hurts him just as much as me. He doesn't show negative emotion around me much—to protect me I think—so I forget sometimes. I guess I forgot this morning. I was so wrapped up in my own pain that I was going to do anything that I thought might help. I should have stayed home with Jake, because that would have helped him. I'm horrible." I watched a teardrop splash onto the wooden table and I stared at it.

She glanced at the black glass again.

"Then what happened?" She sighed.

"I got in my car and pulled out of my driveway. This car almost ran right into me."

She looked up in interest.

"What kind of car?"

I hesitated.

"It was…I don't know." I lied. I was so angry with myself. I wanted to tell them but why wasn't I?! I just couldn't get the words out.

The door opened and a man stuck his head in.

"Can I see you out here for a moment Detective Ella?" She nodded at him and smiled at me before leaving the room. I sat in the empty room, aware of all the invisible eyes on me. I said the words over and over again in my mind. _I was raped, I was raped, I was raped. _

But I could never get them further than my mind.

The door opened again and Detective Ella took her seat again. She paused for a moment.

"Miley that's our psychiatrist. He says you are lying about not knowing what kind of car."

I avoided her glance.

"Are you lying?" She asked gently.

"I…don't know." I whispered.

"How do you not know?! Do you want to help us catch this man or not?! I know it's hard but you've got to be brave here!"

I looked up at her.

"I want Jake in here."

"Just tell me what color car it was!"

"I'm not saying another word until he's here." I whispered.

She sighed and glanced at the window. She nodded. The door opened and Jake rushed to my side. Detective Ella sighed.

"Great. Now I get to argue with Romeo and Juliet." She said it very softly, not intending us to hear, but we did. I thought about the scene we'd performed at his work, and then the…line practice afterwards, and smiled slightly.

"Let's go through this again," She said, "What kind of car was it?"

Jake sat on the table since there were only two chairs. He grasped my hand.

I took a deep breath.

"It was a van. A white one."

She nodded.

"A minivan or a large one?"

I inhaled deeply.

"Large." I struggled out.

"What happened after the almost-crash?"

"I drove to work."

"Where is your work?"

"I work and co-own The Asclepius Center for Recovery." I whispered.

She blinked.

"You own a center for rape victims but yet won't tell us anything?"

How had she not made that connection long ago?

I ignored her.

"What's Asclepius mean?" She continued her questioning.

"Asclepius was the Greek god of healing." I answered.

"So you got to work. Where did you park?"

I couldn't help it; I flinched. Detective Ella seemed to notice she'd hit gold.

"Where did you park?" She repeated.

My thoughts pictured the parking deck. I felt their hands grab me again…I felt myself being thrown in the van…I felt the pain as I was cut…

"Why is she shaking like that?" Jake asked in worry. He slid off the table and kneeled down in front of me. He stroked a hand down my un-cut cheek. I couldn't stop trembling.

"Miley," Detective Ella's voice was raised and she was almost yelling, "Where did you park?"

I shook my head and cried. Detective Ella glanced at the window and frowned. Then she looked back at me, her face in a hard line.

"Get yourself together. This is not a hard question. Just tell me where you parked!"

"It's okay," Jake whispered softly to me, his hand stroking my face, "Just tell them where you parked."

I swallowed some sobs and wiped my face.

"P-parking deck." I collapsed again.

"MILEY!" She screamed urgently, "What happened in the parking deck? What happened?"

"I can't t-tell you." I whimpered, still shaking.

"Tell me or I will arrest you." She whispered angrily.

"I beg your pardon?" Jake exclaimed incredulously, "you can't arrest her!"

"I can to. I will arrest her for holding back evidence in an investigation."

"You have got to be kidding me!" He yelled.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" She asked, her face full of fury. Jake was also shaking now, but his was in fury. Mine was in despair.

He turned to me, "Don't say another word, honey." I nodded.

He turned to Detective Ella.

"I want my lawyer."

She cursed under her breath, and suddenly her partner was in the room with us. He smiled kindly at me.

"While Mr. Ryan phones his lawyer there's someone that wants to talk to you."

I frowned.

"Who?"

"One of the other victim's little girls is in the waiting room coloring. I asked her if she wanted company and she said she wanted you to come play with her. Would you like to go keep her company until your lawyer is here?"

I couldn't really see any harm in it. I squeezed Jake's hand and stood up.

"Sure."

* * *

**Jake's POV**:

He led her out of the room and I rounded on the bitch sitting across from me.

"Where the hell is he taking her?"

She stood up from the chair and I followed her out.

"Hey! Where is she going?" I demanded, screaming at her. She turned around.

"Do you wish to speak with your attorney, Mr. Ryan?"

Fury bubbled in the pit of my stomach.

"I want to know where the hell you're taking my wife!"

"Call your attorney." She snapped.

I was torn what to do. All these detectives and police officers were just idiots. I never should have let them talk us into coming down here. I'm so fucking sick of all this crap that I could kill someone. And I will. If I find out who did this I will kill him slowly and enjoy every damn moment of it.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and blanked. I was about to call my dad and ask him who the best attorney in town was, but I stopped. I knew someone else who had just graduated from Stanford Law School last year. And while she wasn't practicing law with anyone at the moment, I knew I needed someone here who knew our situation personally.

I scrolled through my contacts and found her number. I pressed send and waited for the call to go through. It only rang once before she answered.

"Hello?" She was laughing and I could hear the TV in the background. I exhaled in relief.

"Lana? I need your help."

There was a pause and I imagined her grabbing her coat and purse to jump at the chance to help her big brother. When Lana hit middle school she blew everyone away. We'd never considered her a genius child but she really had the brains I got cheated out of. She skipped seventh and tenth grade and eased her way through college and law school. Lana didn't really want to be a lawyer; she just wanted to say she had the possibility. Oh and she told me one day that she wanted to know what the laws were so she would know what the best way to commit a crime would be. I think she was kidding about that though…I hope.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

I exhaled.

"I'm at the precinct."

She exploded just like I knew she would.

"JESUS, JAKE! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?! HOLY CRAP! WHAT PRECINCT?"

I winced as she screamed in my ear.

"Special victims. The one for—"

"Rape! What the hell are you doing there?! Please don't tell me someone accused you for rape! You don't know how hard it is to get out of that when a weepy liar is playing the jury's emotions!"

I sighed. Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all.

"It's Miley."

There was a beat then she exploded again.

"MILEY? WHAT THE HELL? YOUR WIFE IS ACCUSING YOU OF RAPE?"

Even hearing my name associated with that word made me want to strangle the man again. I'd never, ever, ever hurt anyone that way. Only a coward would do that. A sick, disgusting, coward that needs to be castrated and given the death penalty.

"NO! Lana I'm not getting accused for anything! It's Miley. As in she's the one down here. As in she's been hurt."

"Oh my God. Jake…I'm so sorry. Wait a minute…if she's the victim why the hell do you need me down there?"

"It's a long story. Please come, Lana."

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

She hung up and I followed in suit.

I put my phone back in my pocket and Detective Ella motioned for me to follow her. I walked through the dim hallways for what seemed like hours until we stopped in front of a window like the one to the interrogation room.

Inside, Miley was sitting at a table with a little girl. And we could hear everything they were saying.

"_What happened to your face?"_ The little girl asked her, pointing at the bandage. They were coloring in coloring books. Miley reached for a blue that was almost the exact same color as her eyes and she continued coloring.

"_It was a…accident."_ She said softly. The little girl grabbed a pink and put her purple back in the carton. She had light brown hair that fell to her shoulders in curls and the biggest blue-green eyes I'd ever seen.

"_My mommy got hurt but it wasn't an accident."_ She trilled, her voice like music. I felt sick and I clenched my fists. Was this what Izzy would have looked like? Was this how she would have talked?

"_Oh_?"

"_Yes. She said some man hurt her and then when we were on the way home there was this train and mommy parked the car and got out and she stood in front of it and the train came near and I cried for her to move and she almost didn't but then she came back to the car,"_ The child inhaled after her long sentence.

I could almost feel Miley's guilt. I itched to go help her, but I knew there was no way they'd let me in there.

"_My mommy told the people if the man isn't caught she's gonna kill herself_." The little girl put down the crayons and stared at Miley, "_The policemans told me that means I would have to live with another family if they don't find who it is. I don't want to go live with another family. Please don't let them make me." _

And she started weeping.

It took me five seconds to move across half the room and punch Detective Shorehold in the jaw. His neck snapped back and he fell to the floor. I was restrained by the other officers quickly, but I didn't give a damn.

"You bastard! You monster! How dare you!" Detective Ella kept telling me to be calm. I calmed myself enough to keep from fighting against her restraint. She kept a hold of me and Detective Shorehold glared at me.

"You just assaulted an officer."

"You're assaulting my wife!" I screamed, anger sending blood in my head and making me lightheaded.

"How?" He asked.

"You knew today was the day our daughter died! You knew if you put a child in there and told her cute things to say you could trick the story out of her! You're taking away her rights!"

"I'm doing no such thing. She doesn't _have _to tell that little girl anything." He said simply.

"YOU'RE LEECHING OFF OUR PAIN FOR YOUR BENEFIT!!"

"What is going on here? I'm Lana Carry, Jake's attorney. Let go of him now."

I was never more relieved to see my little sister. Detective Ella let go of me and I was surprised at the authority Lana had over everyone. Detective Shorehold was gapping at her and I almost punched his face in again.

A new person joined our little hallway party.

"And I'm the district attorney, Cindy Walsh. What firm do you represent?" She was eying Lana, sizing her up.

Lana must have got some acting skills because she remained unaffected.

"I represent the good people of California, that's who I represent. And I'd like to know what's going on here!"

I pulled away from the detective and went to Lana's side. I pointed at the room and she looked.

"They drilled that little girl on things to say. They knew today was the day that Izzy died. They did this on purpose. They made us come down here because they think Miley's been raped by a person who raped two other woman afterwards and they are trying to force her to tell them. They told her if she didn't tell them what happened they'd arrest her for withholding information during an investigation."

Lana's jaw dropped. She turned to the district attorney.

"You _must _be smoking something if you think that will work in court! I want her out of here. You cannot force a victim to come here or to report an assault to the officers. It's their choice."

Cindy Walsh smiled smugly.

"We didn't force them to do anything. They were asked if they'd come and chat and they came. They could have easily—"

"We didn't know you were such dicks. If we would have known you were going to harass a victim then use her pain to get a testimony then we would have told you to go fu—"

Lana interrupted everyone. She was staring at the room, and she motioned for all of us to be silent.

"_I didn't see his face." _

"_Why? Was there a mask on? Did he have a face or was he like the monster in that scary movie brother watched that time?" _

Miley fidgeted, and suddenly Lana was pissed.

"You have three seconds to tell me that you told her you were going to listen to this," Her voice was deadly.

"She saw the window in the interrogation room that looks just like this. It's to be implied."

"The hell it is! You put her in a room with a little girl and trained this little girl on what to say. Then you didn't even bother telling Miley that you're recording everything she's saying! That's it, she's leaving. Get her out of there now."

"No. You can't make her do that. She only leaves when she asks to leave."

"And what is this bull shit about arresting her for withholding information during an investigation? She's not a witness, she's a victim, and she's not pressing a lawsuit so there is no lawsuit!" Lana thundered.

"There's another lawsuit the other two victims are pressing against the rapist. Miley was attacked by the same man and either saw his face or heard his voice. She can help ID him."

"That's a crock of shit! You have no proof it was the same rapist because you don't know what happened to Miley! And you have no way to know she heard his voice or saw his face!"

"Both are extremely probable."

"WE DON'T HARRASS VICTIMS ON CHANCE!!" Lana screamed, her face red with fury. She took a deep breath and then continued, "Until you have solid proof that Miley has indeed been raped**—"**

"That's ridiculous! Of course she's been raped! You don't look at a dead man with a bullet in his head and say he's only murdered if he says he was!" The DA screamed.

"And you also don't decide to take personal matters in your own hands! Miley is the only person who knows what happened. If she says she wasn't raped that means either she wasn't, or she doesn't want to tell anyone! That's her choice! Get over it! Until she admits to being raped, and you have solid proof that she was, like a rape kit and pelvic exam, then she wasn't! And until you have even solider proof that all rapes were committed by the same man then back off!"

I was ignoring them all, because unbeknown to them, she was telling the whole story. They were too busy bickering to even notice.

"_I was going into work and the bad man grabbed me." _She whispered, wringing her hands. She was upset and I could tell.

"_Then what happened? Did he take your money?" _

She paused and I ground my teeth together. This was all my fault. I should have forced her to stay home. I didn't and now some disgusting person hurt her in the one of the worst ways. What had I done?

"_No. He did something to me that you wouldn't understand." _

I was almost one hundred percent sure she didn't know we were listening. I wanted to know what happened, I wanted to know who it was so I could make him regret it. But this wasn't right. She should be able to decide who knows what happened and who doesn't. This was just another case of a man taking what isn't his and getting rid of her rights.

I started beating on the glass. She stopped and immediately her head flew to the window. She gapped at it.

"I'm taking my client home. Do not bother us again. If she wants to press charges that's her decision." Lana snapped, "Open the door."

Detective Ella scowled, but her lawyer whispered something to her, and she opened the door. Lana rushed in there and I made a move to but a hand grabbed my arm roughly.

Detective Shorehold pulled me away and into a small room with a dirty couch and a coffee maker.

"Get your hand off me," I yanked my arm out of his grip.

"You assaulted me. That'll get you prison time."

I thought about what would happen if I left Miley. I was suddenly sent back two years ago. I was sitting on the beach with her, and she was crying_. "I want to die,"_ She had said, _"But you won't let me."_ The sentence confused me and made me sick. I didn't know she wanted to die, and I also didn't know how I'd told her she couldn't. Of course I wouldn't let her, but I hadn't ever told her I wouldn't. _"What do you mean?" _I had asked her. She turned so she was facing me and the sunset was highlighting her radiance. _"I can't die because of you. I can't live without you, or die without you. You keep me down here on this stupid Earth. Sometimes I wish you'd just let me go," _There hadn't been words for any of us to say after that. I just held her until the sun came up, being thankful for once that I had her trapped. This was a good kind of trapping.

I winced as I thought about what she would do if I was gone.

"I'm listening."

"You're her husband, her best friend, am I right? I know I am. She's going to come to you soon and tell you. And when she does, you have to come tell me what she says."

I ignored the anger clawing at me.

"You seem to be desperate to find this man." I muttered.

His eyes hardened.

"I should. My daughter is one of the two that was attacked."

I let the words sink in. He continued.

"You know she should tell. It's what she needs to do. Sometime women let their emotions get in the way of rational thinking and we have to force them to do what they need to do. Everyone is a different person between the sheets, if you get my drift. You know her better than everyone else. Get the information out of her and come tell me so I can help your wife and my daughter. Let's find this man and make him pay for what he did."

"'_Sometime women let their emotions get in the way of rational thinking and we have to force them to do what they need to do_.'" I quoted the man as I stared at him in disgust, "I bet you that's exactly what the man was thinking when he raped them. You can do whatever you want to handle your daughter situation, but I'm not doing that to my wife. If I take her rights away again that's just like what that man did to her. It'll be betrayal and the words will be taken by force. I agree that she should tell but she is a grown woman and she makes her own decisions. If you want to be a rapist of words then fine. Be like that. But I won't be one. If you want to press charges then go ahead. I'll tell them about everything you did and press charges myself. Leave my family the hell alone."

I charged to the door. He hurried after me.

"You're going to regret this! You don't know what it's like for rape victims who don't come forward! You have no idea!"

"Fuck off!" I screamed over my shoulder.

"You'll be begging for help in a month's time!"

I ignored him and kept walking forward. I spotted Miley talking quietly with Lana in the hallway. She noticed me and came running to me. I pulled her soft body against mine and held her there. This was the woman who had been through so much and was still here, who stayed strong for the people she loved, who tried to lie to me when she was hurting to make me feel better even though her lies were pathetic. This was the woman who carried my children, who kissed me like I was the only gravity keeping her on this Earth, who moaned my name like music when we came together. This was the woman I loved, the only one I've ever loved; the one I'd been with so long that there is no life apart at all.

This was the woman I promised to keep safe over and over again but failed each time. This is the woman I'd give my life for.

This is the woman that is going to turn me into a murderer.


	22. Plaintive

**A/n: **I am soooo sorry for the long wait. Blame it on school and other personal drama happening in my life. Forgive me? And while you're at it, can you forgive me for this horrible update? Thank you all so, so, so much for the reviews. They mean a ton to me. And special thanks to Alyssa (daisy617) who is pure amazingness. And I don't even care if that isn't a word :P

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**"And though I may have lost my way, all paths lead straight to you..." Evanescence, "Like You"**

* * *

"_Don't peak!"_

_Cole sighed and impatiently pulled on my hand. _

"_Where are we going?" He whined. I smiled at him and made sure he wasn't peeking out from between his fingers. I led him through the living room carefully. _

"_You'll see," I sang. I looked out the glass doors and caught Jake's eye. He nodded at me and I smiled back. _

_I opened the doors carefully, and pulled Cole out into the warm sun. _

"_Why are we outside?" _

_I ignored his question and led him further down the yard, stopping at a white gate. Jake opened it for us, and followed us in it. I stared at the new, sparkling pool and even felt a little excited myself. The water was a deep blue, and the pool was the shape of an infinity sign. _

"_Can I look now?" Cole squirmed and sighed in boredom. _

"_Okay. Open your eyes on three….one, two, three!" _

_Cole pulled his hand off his eyes. Immediately, his jaw dropped. He turned to Jake and me, a large smile covering his face. _

"_A pool!" He screamed excitedly, "We got a pool?!" _

"_That's why you stayed over at grandma's this weekend," Jake explained, "They were building this." _

_He walked forward and kneeled down at the edge of the pool. He touched the surface of the water and in a flash he was hugging Jake tightly. _

"_Thank you thank you thank you!" He ran over to me, and paused. He eyed my extremely large stomach and tried to figure out the best way to hug me. I laughed softly at his confused expression and opened my right arm. He ran over to my side and hugged me. _

"_Thank you." He whispered. I smiled so hard my face ached. I tousled his hair and hugged him back. _

"_You're welcome." He moved away from me and started for the pool again. He paused, and then turned back around. _

"_Can I get in?" _

_Jake laughed, "It's February!" _

"_Please dad? Please, please, please, please, please, please—"_

_Jake sighed. _

"_It's alright with me if it's alright with your mother."_

_Cole turned his pleading glance on me. I avoided his eyes while I ran it over in my head. It was a pretty warm day so I supposed it wouldn't do much harm if he swam for a little while. _

"_Okay, as long as you—" I stopped because Cole was already jetting through the yard and into the doors. Jake chuckled and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I sighed as he kissed the side of my mouth. _

"_What's wrong?" He asked me, resting his forehead against the top of my head. I laughed lightly and pressed a hand to my belly. _

"_In two more days we'll have another…I'm thinking about how hectic things will be." _

"_Very hectic. But we'll love every minute of it." His fingertips traced my cheekbone softly and my heart fluttered. _

"_We will," I agreed. _

"_Watch this, watch this, watch this, watch this!" Cole came running toward the pool, his swimming trunks on and a smile on his face. He didn't stop his running and my heart froze as I realized he was about to dive into a shallow end. _

"_Cole!" I shrieked, "Don't jump in the shallow end!" _

_He stopped running at once, and turned around with a sheepish smile on his face. _

"_I wasn't gonna!" He whined, but his eyes told me different, "Now you messed up my super dive!" _

_Jake pointed at the opposite end of the pool. _

"_Why don't you show us your super dive over there where you can't break your neck." _

_Cole grumbled as he started off around the edge of the pool. _

"_Don't run around the pool!" I cried out. He stopped and turned around, an annoyed glare on his face. _

"_Chill out mom. I got this." _

_He dramatically turned around and very, very slowly put one foot in front of the other. He walked one step in ten seconds. _

"_Smart-aleck," I muttered. Jake grinned._

"_I wonder where he got that from." _

"_You!" We both hissed under our breath. _

_Jake suddenly had my hand in his, and he started walking toward the pool steps, pulling me with him. _

"_No!" I protested, "I'm not getting in the pool!" _

"_You don't have to." He said. I eyed him suspiciously but followed him all the same. He sat on the edge of the pool and patted the spot beside him. I looked down at the seat and then pointed at my middle._

"_If you honestly think I can get down there without falling in then you have some problems." _

_He chuckled and gracefully slid into the water, his jeans getting soaked up to the thigh. He cried out at the cool temperature, but smiled all the same. _

"_What are you doing? Are you mad?" I muttered, but found it didn't seem that stupid to me. _

_He smiled at me. _

"_Well now if you tip over while sitting down I can catch you!" He exclaimed. I rolled my eyes and sighed. It would be so much less of a hassle to actually get in the water than it would to try and sit down on the ground. I walked, or waddled I suppose, to the pool steps and grabbed the rail. I touched my toes to the water and shivered. _

"_This is as far as I--"_

_A splash cut me off. I looked at the deep end of the pool and saw ripples on the surface. I waited ten seconds and no one came up. _

"_Jake!" I cried in panic. He was already swimming to the deep end faster than I would have thought possible. I wanted to jump in and help but jumping into that water could send me into early labor. _

_Jake dived under and I waited, worry piercing me. When no one came up a sharp, sharp stab of panic hit me, and it took me longer than it should have to realize the stab of panic was actually something else. _

_I wrapped my arms around my stomach and gasped. Intense, cramping pain started at my lower back and circled around my abdomen. _

"_Shit," I whispered, "Shit, shit, shit." _

_Jake came up, followed with Cole. They were both laughing. _

"_Cole was trying to see how long he could hold his breath but I so beat him," Jake jokingly bragged. He looked up at me and his facial expression changed to shock. _

_He stroked over to the side of the pool and pulled himself out. He ran over to me, his wet hand pressing to my stomach. When he realized it wasn't just me wincing from her kicking, he cried for Cole to get out of the pool. I doubled over, waiting for the pain to pass. Jake had my hand, knowing the routine. _

_Cole was out of the pool and beside me, his wet hair in his face. I reached over and brushed it back, and he grabbed my hand. _

"_What's wrong?" He asked. _

"_It's time for the baby," I muttered, smiling tightly at him, "Why don't you go get dressed?" _

_He reluctantly let go of my hand and walked backwards toward the house, keeping an eye on us. When he reached the gate he turned around and ran full speed into the house. As soon as he was gone I broke down._

"_Oh God, Jake," I panicked, "Eva is still on vacation with Otis! I can't have this baby now! I can't have some stand in doctor! Only Eva knows about what has been happening!" _

_His warm hands held my face and he stared at me seriously. _

"_Miley, you need to calm down. I will call Eva as soon as we back into the house. If she can't get here then she will appoint and trusting doctor. Everything will be alright." _

_I shook my head, and his hands tightened. _

"_What if it's not," I murmured, "What if…." I trailed off, my tears increasing. _

_His lips pressed to mine, and then he hugged me as best as he could. _

"_Never," He breathed, "This is going to be fine. Really, try not to worry so much. We're going to go and come back with a beautiful baby." His thumb wiped at my tears and then he gently guided me toward the house._

"_Let's go get our bags and call Eva and everyone else," He suggested, "Things will be okay." _

_He looked out toward the pool, but not before I saw in his eyes what must have been in mine._

* * *

**MILEY'S POV:**

"—and then, of course, we could always get them for harassment."

I kept my eyes shut and my head resting on the seat. Maybe if I never opened my eyes they'd keep thinking I was asleep.

"I don't know," Jake's voice muttered softly. I could feel the vibrations of the car moving, and hear the engine running. "What would that involve? I don't want to bring a court into this."

There was a pause.

"It would involve court," Lana whispered, "Well, then, there's not much we can do. I understand how upset you are about this, but I think maybe it'd just be better to let it go."

For a long while all I could hear was the humming of the engine.

"Do you think she should press charges against whoever it was?" He asked quietly.

"This isn't about what I think. This is about what she wants to do." Lana argued.

"I know that. I just want to know your opinion."

I heard the sound of the turn signal being put on, and then the car took a sharp turn to the right.

"I think there's a reason she's not telling. I think either something was threatened, or she knows who it was and isn't telling for that reason."

Jake was suddenly hostile.

"You think someone we knew did this? Someone we trusted!?"

The car stopped for a second at what I assumed was a stop sign, and then started again.

"I don't know. I'm not a therapist. I was just telling you my opinion, like you asked."

Jake cursed underneath his breath.

"This isn't your fault, big brother," Lana whispered compassionately, her voice thick with Jake's pain. "You couldn't have stopped this anymore than you could have stopped what happened to those babies."

The speed of the car increased, which made me sure Jake was the one driving. He had terrible road rage.

"It doesn't make it hurt any less." He whispered thickly.

"Oh Jake," Lana sniffed, "Things will get better soon."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you're already at rock bottom." She whispered.

The car sped up and took another sharp turn, this time with no turn signal.

"No I'm not," His voice was shaky, "Rock bottom would be having her gone."

Lana fell silent and didn't say the sentence she was going to say next.

_In order to go up you have to go down._

* * *

The car came to a complete stop. I heard the engine stop, and the doors opening.

"I'll get her," Jake said sharply, which made me think Lana was about to try and wake me up. The door beside me opened and there was a pause. Jake gently touched my hand.

"Miley?" He whispered, "We're home."

I opened my eyes and his face came into view. He had dark bruises underneath his red eyes and he seemed paler than usual. I hated myself then. I hated making him so miserable.

I sat up and he helped me out of the car. I walked slowly through the house and to our bedroom. I crawled into the bed, pulling all the blankets over my head. I curled up into a small ball underneath the heavy blankets, pressing my face to my thighs. Sooner or later I'd suffocate. It was already getting hard to breathe. I didn't move even when it was painful to breathe. But, at the last minute, I felt the blankets pulled off my face. The cold air rushed around me and I cried. He always saved me. Even when I didn't want him to.

"I'm so sorry," Jake whispered to me, "I'm so sorry."

I cried even harder at that. The silence was suffocating me even more than the blankets had been. When it was silent I could hear his voice in my ear, his sadistic laughing. I just wanted to hide from it all, but I couldn't hide from my own mind.

"It's so quiet," I whimpered, "It's too quiet."

Hesitatingly, Jake sat on the bed. I turned around and he slid down until he was lying on his side. His arms wrapped around my middle and his hands cupped the back of my head. I pressed my face into his shirt and he held me tightly as if he could immolate my pain just like that. He was a supernumerary person, the best of them all. I didn't deserve him.

Softly, he began reciting what could only be monologues from plays and books and movies. At first it upset me even more. I could never do for him what he did for me. But eventually my cries stopped and I cleared my mind and focused on the rhythm and texture of his voice. The last thing I heard before I drifted to sleep was his voice and the words of others that sounded so much like his.

I knew I was conscious again the moment I felt pain. I opened my eyes slowly, my neck aching from sleeping so long. The immediate thing I noticed was that Jake was gone, and the covers were pushed off my body. I reached down to pull them back up.

The bedroom door was open. Light from the hallway was gentle and hazy as it flooded the room. I heard lackadaisical voices drifting from somewhere near the bedroom, most likely the study. They were too soft to make out more than a few words, but I was pretty sure I knew exactly what they were talking about.

I pushed myself up in a sitting position with my arms. I stayed staring at the wall for a few moments, unsure of what I actually wanted to do. When heard a snippet of my father's sentence, I knew I wanted to be in there. I winced in pain as I crawled over to the edge of the bed. I set my feet on the floor and eased myself up. I walked slowly out of the room. The sweatpants I'd changed into before going to the police station were bunched up and tangled around my leg from tossing and turning in sleep. I paused in the hallway and numbly fixed them, as if it was a mindless reflex. The voices grew louder, and my dream-like peregrination came to a stop outside the study, just as I'd suspected.

The moment I walked in the doorway, they all fell silent. Jake was standing in front of the window with his mother and my father, and Lana was on the sofa with her father, Lilly, and Jackson.

Alana was the first to move. She came forward and pulled me into an embrace. By the time I'd worked up enough energy to hug back, she was pulling away. My dad came up behind her. The bright light in the room made the grays in his hair stand out. His eyes took in the bandage on my face, and I was so glad he couldn't see the others. The pained look on his face for just this one was enough. He hugged me.

"You'll be alright." He muttered, as if he wanted to believe it more than me. I wanted to be angry that Jake invited all of them over here and into my business. I wanted to be furious. But I couldn't figure out how.

Alana wrapped her arm around my shoulders and led me to the couch. She sat down and pulled me down beside her. I was right beside Jackson, who was sitting beside Lilly. I noticed their close proximity, but didn't feel like questioning today. The only reason they weren't together right now was because they were both stubborn. And if they didn't get over that and tell each other how they felt one day…well, they'll regret it the rest of their lives.

Jackson wrapped his arm around me in a hugging sort of gesture, but couldn't seem to look me in the eye. Lilly was the same. She smiled and patted my knee, but seemed unable to meet my gaze.

My eyes automatically looked up to locate Jake. He was still in front of the window with his head ducked down. My first thought was that he was hurt, and I shoved all others out of my mind. I stood up from the couch and walked over to the window. Outside, the sky held a bevy of bright stars. I felt enervated and numb, but my heart still ached to see his broken. My fingertips touched the back of his hand lightly, and he looked up at me.

When we came home without our daughters, he'd locked himself up in the bathroom to cry. I never saw him cry face to face. But now, he seemed to be openly crying. I couldn't spot any tears, but his uneven breathing and heart-wrenching expression told me differently. My fingers tightened around his hand, and I rested my head on his shoulder. It was such a simple act of comfort and affection, but it seemed to mean a lot more to him. He hid his face in my hair, and I placed my other hand on his cheek. I felt better for a moment, thinking that maybe I was comforting him for once. But then I remembered that I was part of—if not all of—the reason he was upset.

I heard a strange sound from behind me, and Jake and I turned around. Alana turned away, her face hidden.

"I'm sorry," Her voice was strangled and shaky, "I'll be right back."

Jim got up to follow her. I took Jake's hand and led us both over to the couch. I sat down and he sat down beside me. The silence was heavy.

"What happened?" Lilly's voice was soft and hesitant. She kept her eyes trained on the rug. Most everyone looked at her in disbelief, but no one berated her because they also wanted to know.

I avoided their eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It might help."

"No, it won't."

The silence took over again. No one seemed to know anything to say.

"Are you going to go to the doctor?" Dad asked.

I froze, my heart beating so much louder.

"There's no reason to." I lied shakily.

"Yes there is, Mile. You know there is." He said.

"I don't want to talk about it." I repeated, my voice uneven.

"What if there's something—"

"Robby," Jake interrupted him, "drop it, please."

"No. I will not drop it. You may seem to care about her emotional comfort more than her physical wellbeing, but I'm not going to make that mistake. She needs to see a doctor and if you won't make her then I will."

_No one can make me do anything, _I thought. But then I realized what a stupid thought that was.

"Then you obviously don't care about her," Jake hissed, "How could you possibly force her to go through something like that?"

"How could you live with yourself if she died because you didn't bring her to get adequate medical attention?" Dad shot back.

This made Jake hesitate.

"She would know if she was hurt that badly, and she'd go to the doctor." He didn't even believe his own words.

Would I?

"Would she?" Dad rebutted, "Or would she ignore it to save herself emotional discomfort?"

"I can't force her go to the doctor, Robby, and you know that. She's an adult."

I felt my dad's eyes on me.

"But you could make her," He whispered, "She'd do anything for you."

There was a soft silence. I would do anything for him. And he knew it.

Jake's hand brushed my hair back, and lingered on my neck for a moment. He met my gaze, his eyes tender.

He seemed to see something he didn't want to in my eyes, because he turned away and looked back in my father's direction.

"If you had that power," He started softly, "would you misuse it?"

My dad turned his eyes on me.

"Yes," He said honestly, "If it was for her own good."

Jake's arm wrapped around my shoulder tightly, as if he were afraid I'd disappear.

"Then I'm weaker than you."

My dad stood up, his eyes on Jake and me.

"No," He disagreed slowly, "You just love her too much."

Dad patted my hand, and then left the room.

Maybe Jake and I did love each other too much. Maybe it would be better for us to be without each other. But it would never happen. Because we love each other.

* * *

I went back to bed. Jake said he was going to make them all leave and that I should go relax. I didn't have the heart to tell him that wasn't going to happen. I leaned back against the pillows, and almost instantly felt my mind slipping away. Not toward unconsciousness, but to a happier, safer time. I tried to fight it, but it seemed to be my mind's self-defensive mechanism. It was pretty sick that my worst memories seemed to be a vacation to the pain my mind was experiencing.

* * *

_I fought exhaustion and kept my eyes wide. _

_I saw her, I heard her cry. My heart ached with relief. I cried the happiest tears I ever had, and I waited to have her in my arms. It was only a three-hour labor, so much easier compared to the seven-hour labor I'd had with Joy. _

_I saw them hand her to Jake. His smile was so big that I was amazed his face didn't break with the strain. She was crying, but it didn't bother him. He walked over and sat down beside me on the bed, our daughter perched in his arms. He let me hold her, and I cradled her to me. She was so small and warm. I could feel her heartbeat and it was the most reassuring thing in the world. _

"_Don't cry," He told me, brushing the tears away with his fingertips, "Everything is alright." _

_I kissed her head lightly. She had a head full of light brown hair, and she was perfect. _

"_That's why I'm crying. Because everything is all right." _

_I stroked her cheek with my finger and was amazed, as I always was, that Jake and I made something so amazing out of virtually nothing. _

"_She's so beautiful," I whispered, "She looks just like you." _

_Jake brushed his fingers over her small head, and kissed the same spot I had. _

"_You always say they look like me. She has brown hair," He gently tugged on a strand of my hair playfully, "Just like you." _

_I studied her, and shook my head. _

"_It's not really brown. It's more like….caramel." _

"_Brown," He disagreed half-heartedly. _

_I smiled, "Whatever." _

"_Here." _

_We glanced up to see a nurse with a clipboard. She seemed exhausted and bored. She shoved the clipboard in Jake's hands. The birth certificate. Jake filled out most of it, and I signed where it was needed. He pointed at the name blank, which he had left empty. _

"_Isabella, of course." I gazed down at her. Jake laughed._

"_Ah ha ha! I totally won you over! I knew I would." _

_He wrote the name down. _

"_Middle?" _

_I gazed down at her beautiful, sleeping face. I smiled. _

"_Chloe." _

_Jake pondered it and glanced at her. _

"_I like it. It's fitting and unique." He wrote it down. There was a pause and then he turned to me. _

"_Last name?" _

_I rolled my eyes._

"_Bloom! What do you think, Ryan?" _

_He smiled and wrote our last name down. _

"_I was thinking it was nice to hear you say it, Ryan." He grinned cheekily. _

"_It's Mrs. Bloom to you." I muttered jokingly underneath my breath. _

_He signed where it was needed, and then handed the clipboard back to the nurse. _

_He turned to our daughter. _

"_You're so beautiful, Izzy." He whispered sweetly. _

"_Okay, that stops right now." _

_He raised his eyebrows._

"_What does?" _

_I grimaced, "Izzy." _

_He gasped in fake indignation, "But you said…but….but…." _

"_Isabella or Bella works." _

_He sighed and stroked Isabella's head. _

"_She just doesn't understand us, Izzy." _

_I sighed but didn't press the matter further. I moved Isabella so she was lying in my right arm, that way Jake was as much holding her as I was. _

"_I still can't believe something this small was making those powerful kicks," Jake laughed. I smiled. _

"_Maybe she'll be a soccer player."_

"_Ballerina." _

"_You don't know that." I argued. _

_He eyed Isabella._

"_Yes I do." _

_I sighed happily, "Can you believe we've got a daughter?" _

"_She's perfect," He said, as if this was a logical answer to my question. He leaned closer to her sleeping body. "I love you, Izzy." _

"_I love you too, Isabella." I whispered. Her nose crinkled, and she started to cry. _

"_Izzy, bizzy, lizzy, fofizzy, mizzy, nizzy, Izzy," Jake trilled of the rhyme playfully, and Isabella's cries quieted. We both watched in silent wonder as her eyes opened for the first time. I was glad the first thing she saw was us. _

_Her eyes weren't the normal, newborn gray. They were greenish and shaped exactly like Jake's. Tears re-entered my eyes. _

"_Your eyes," I murmured breathlessly. _

"_Your hair," _

_I handed her to Jake. Even though he didn't ask, I knew he wanted to hold her. He gratefully held her against him, so amazed to see a part of himself in her. _

"_Would you like to invite some family in?" _

_We glanced up at the inquiring doctor. We both looked back down at our beautiful baby. _

"_Let us have a few more minutes. They'll have plenty of time to see her." Jake voiced my thoughts. _

_She was perfect._

* * *

The bed shifted and Jake lay down beside me. There was a pause as the sorrow filled up our room.

"I'm sorry." He whispered again.

I rolled over.

"I am too."

I still missed her. But maybe I missed myself more.


	23. Bolt

**A/n: **That was a semi-fast update! Thank you all for the reviews. I can't even express my gratitude coherently!

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**"Somewhere, far down, there was an itch in his heart, but he made it a point not to scratch it. He was afraid of what might come leaking out." Markus Zusak, The Book Thief**

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**Jake's POV:**

She slept so soundly that I had to check she was breathing three times. I tried to sleep, but my mind was swirling with her words and images of what happened to her. I didn't want to think about what he did to her. I didn't want to think about it. But every time I close my eyes…every time I wasn't focused on one thing…terrible assumptions filled my mind. I automatically assumed the worse, as most pessimists do. And the very thought had my head throbbing and my stomach sick with the vengeance I'd never get. How _dare _someone touch her, how _dare _they hurt her! What kind of man can hurt a girl and ignore their cries? What kind of fucked up person could even do that? Who could do that to _my _girl?

My hands were shaking so powerfully that I had to get out of the bed. I didn't want to wake her up. I was glad she could sleep so peacefully, and if I ruined that for her, I'd hate myself even more. I climbed out of the bed as discretely as I could. Anger knotted my stomach and I wanted to hit something, or someone, preferably that bastard's face.

I paused before leaving the room. I turned around to make sure she was still there. I squinted in the dark until I could make out the rise and fall of her chest. The moonlight spilled over her face and hair like silk, and I didn't want to leave her.

I had this terrible, festering feeling of pain that ached inside me all the time. No matter what I did, it was there at the bottom of my heart. Sometimes it made me so scared that I had to cancel classes and come home to be with her. It was the feeling of being alone, of her being gone. Everyone thinks I'm too clingy, too protective, but I forever have the lurking feeling of losing her inside me. It started a long time ago, when I began to lose her, piece by piece. With each piece of herself she loses, it hurts that much more. I'm afraid that if I leave her for one minute, that will be one minute we'll never get back. I could feel her slipping away more than she could. It was the little, solid things. Like the way she no longer whispered into the dark that dying terrified her, but that the thought of always having to live in pain with no escape terrified her. Or the way her smiles were so sparse lately that sometimes I forgot what it was like to see the world in a facial expression.

I fought with myself daily. I felt terrible a lot of times, for insisting she stay here with me, even though she was in so much pain. But I couldn't find it in me to let her go. I couldn't be without her, and that made me selfish. It was wrong, so wrong, for me to put her through this pain. Even as I knew this, I thought about what it would be like to wake up without her for every single morning of the rest of my life and I can't take it. I could slice my extremities off more readily than I will be without her. It's practically the same thing, with one hurting both physically _and _mentally.

It took strength to turn back around. I wanted nothing more than to go back and take her in my arms…to feel her breath on my skin, the rise and fall of breathing, and her heartbeat. But I couldn't make her wake up and face reality anymore.

I took one last look and walked out of the room, wondering why I felt like I might be dying. I wandered down the hall and around the house, trying to think of a place that I could relax. A room with that asshole in it, along with something sharp. But that was out of my reach and I found myself in her office.

I didn't come in here unless she was there, out of principle. This was her private things from work, and I shouldn't snoop around. But my fingers itched to open the drawers, as if the answer to who did this might be there. That was ridiculous though, seeing as though she stopped taking work home a very long time ago when she got other people to take over some of the many jobs she'd been doing on her own.

I walked over to the desk and sat down in the chair. The walls were an ocean blue, which was supposed to relax but did nothing for me. I eyed the drawers on the desk and wondered how wrong it would be for me to take a peek, to see what some of the work she used to do was. She never even came in here, and the desk wasn't locked, so surely she wouldn't care that much.

I slid my fingers over the cool metal of the knob. I pulled the drawer open slowly, guilt and shame making me even sicker. Inside were stacks of manila folders. I grabbed the one on top before I could think anything else and opened it.

The first page in the stack was the basic information about the girl.

"Eleven," I murmured to myself, staring at the little girl's stick-straight black hair and Hispanic complexion. I read further, and felt my stomach churn. "Raped," I winced, "By her father."

I turned the paper open so I wouldn't have to star in her eyes and think about what she must be feeling. The man who was supposed to protect her…hurt her. What was _wrong _with the world? Jesus Christ. Some people are disgusting and should just be shot.

A sentence on the next page caught my eyes.

"_Victim was subpoenaed by the prosecution to testify for the people against Martin DeVallin," _

Subpoenaed. I'd heard the word before, but never really understood the concept of forcing someone to testify. I imagined how horrible it would be, to sit in that box, and be forced to answer anything the attorney's threw at you, even if it was your deepest secret. A chill ran through me and a sickening thought filled my mind.

What if they subpoenaed Miley?

Looking back, I think that must have been the final straw. That's the moment I knew we were leaving this town, and not coming back for a long time. All the things that had happened to us here, all the things out of her control...it was all adding up and it was too much now. No one should ever have to bury two of their children. No one should ever be raped. No one should ever be forced to tell what happened to the world. But this world sucked and all that was happening to Miley. If I couldn't make them stop hurting her, then I'd just remove her from their grasps.

I picked up the phone on the desk and dialed Lana's number. She'd be pissed I was calling so late, but she'd get over it eventually. It rang four times and then a groggy voice picked up.

"Hello?" It was Joe that picked up. The guy was alright for my little sister's husband, I suppose. He treated her right but was just so…in himself. He lived in his own little world most the time.

"Hey Joe, this is Jake. I know it's late but I really need to speak with my sister." I was surprised by how shaky my voice was. I thought my emotions were under control but I must have been wrong.

There was a pause and I heard him wake her up. She was polite to him, but when she answered the phone sounded furious.

"What the hell, Jake? It's flipping three in the morning! I just left over there! I didn't know my legal counseling was this great! I should be charging an hourly fee." For so early in the morning she spoke pretty angrily.

"Would they subpoena her?" The words were webbed with more fury than I ever expected. Lana sighed.

"Did you go home and just start reading legal dictionaries or something?"

"No. And you aren't answering the question."

"Well _sorry_! It's not every day you start throwing around legal terms like they're part of your vocabulary!"

"Answer the question!"

She sighed in exasperation, and then was silent for a while.

"Do they know for sure it was done by the same person?"

I thought back to what the detectives had said.

"They said that it happened to the others in the same part of town, and they had similar injuries."

"Probable cause," Lana whispered to herself. She paused then started again.

"If they are at an impossible dead end, they could. I don't think it's likely though, Jake. They'd be an idiot to force her on the stand when they have no idea what she would say. But then again, if they are already going down, they might see that it can't hurt anything. I can't give you a yes or no answer for that."

"What happens if they do?"

"You'll get served the motion, and you'll have to answer whatever they ask."

"Couldn't she plead the fifth?" I asked, grasping on to the last hope I could manage.

"No. The Fifth Amendment applies only to answers that would show you are guilty of a crime. You can't use that unless you're on trial for committing something."

"What about just ignoring the questions and refusing to answer?"

I could almost see her falling asleep.

"You'll be found in contempt of the court, which leads to fines and/or jail time."

It was all so complicated. Why was our legal system so warped?

"What if she pretends to not know anything."

"That's perjury. Same punishment."

I was at a dead end. I knew it was stupid for me to be getting so worked up over something that might not even happen, but I was literally watching her life balance on a wire. One more situation where she has absolutely no control could send her off the edge, and I couldn't handle that.

"There must be some way to get around it," I begged, "Anything."

Lana yawned. "If there's a legal reason the subpoena can be quashed."

My heart jumped.

"What would be a legal reason?"

"God, Jake, why are you worrying about this? It probably won't even happen! Please just get some sleep!"

"Answer the question!"

"I really should charge you for this."

"I'll mail you your check," I said sarcastically, "What reasons could we use?"

"You could say it subjects her to undue burden," Lana suggested, "But I'm not promising anything."

I tapped my foot impatiently.

"Name a reason you've heard of someone quashing a subpoena for."

"Usually the rule is someone who is neither a party of a party's officer shouldn't have to travel more than one-hundred miles to attend trial. Except I've also heard that if you're anywhere in the state you still have to make it to trial, or face contempt."

I leaned forward slowly in the chair, resting my elbows on the desk.

"So…if someone who was subpoenaed left the state that would be it?"

"This is absurd Jake, and I refuse to answer that question! You are staying right here, there is no reason to pack everyone up and move them out of here because you're afraid she might have to speak in court!"

"Would you want to have to be forced to tell the world about what happened to you when you couldn't even tell the person closest to you?" I asked quietly.

Lana groaned, "Jake! There is no subpoena! God, you're just like mom! With your obsessive worrying!"

"Don't even compare me to her! This is different! And I don't think leaving this place would hurt anyone in this family too greatly. Think of all that's happened to us here."

"Would you really want to leave your baby's bodies?" Lana's voice was soft and made me sick. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about it, an exercise that I always tried that never really worked.

"Not leave for good. Just a little while."

"I think this is stupid and, well, rather spazzy but I can't change your mind and I know that. When are you leaving?"

I turned and glanced at the window. It was just beginning to get a little light outside.

"Soon. As fast as possible."

There was a heavy moment of silence.

"When will you be back?" She asked.

I closed the file and put it back in its respectable drawer. I stared at the names on the folders until they all seemed to blur into one, unidentifiable garble of words. They're rapist had done what they'd been trying to do all along. Take away their identity and sense of power; make them feel they aren't anything but just another statistic.

I shut the drawer.

"I don't know."

* * *

I left the office. I went upstairs and peeked in Cole's room. He was sleeping soundly. Earlier in the day Robby, my dad, and I had buried Moose outside. Cole stayed in here. I worried about him. Sometimes I thought maybe he'd be better off without us.

When I walked back into our bedroom, she was crying. The sound tore at me until I felt like I myself couldn't breathe. I rushed over to her side. Her face was stark white and her hands were gripped tightly around the sheets. She was whimpering "no" out loud, which must have been the equivalent of screaming it in her dream. And just like in reality, nothing stopped him. He was even hurting her in her mind.

I placed my hands over hers and pried them off the blanket. Her fingers latched around mine with weak strength. I stroked the soft skin over her knuckles and sat on the floor, leaning my head against the side of the mattress. Her tossing and turning stopped, and her grip on my hand went away, but she still cried. Each one seemed to be like something stabbing me. Eventually I pulled myself up and sat beside her, pulling her into my arms. She stirred a bit, and I stroked her face, trying not to think about the sharp object that someone had pressed upon it earlier.

"You were having a bad dream," I whispered to her. Her head turned and she pressed it into my chest, her cries continuing and her tears splashing on my skin.

"No I'm not," She started. She didn't have to continue though, because I heard the rest through her silence. _This is my life. _

She fell asleep, whimpering and restlessly turning for about thirty minutes. My head was heavy with exhaustion but I couldn't sleep with her in pain. Hours later I was desperate to make her feel better. I figured that maybe she was hurting physically, and needed pain medication. The problem was we hadn't gotten her prescription filled yet. I thought about it, sitting in the car, and I glanced at the alarm clock. Eight sixteen in the morning. Surely some pharmacy was open already. I hated to leave her but I hated to have her in pain too. Eventually I managed to convince myself to gently lay her down and get dressed. I threw on something random, and started for the door. I turned around before I walked out, a lasting reflex, and just looked at her. She looked so broken. I never understood how someone could look broken until a few years back, and now I saw it even more. I tried to glance just at the curve of her neck, or the waves of her hair, but my eyes always seem to end up back at that bandage.

And for a brief moment I realized how the saying "stuck out like a sore thumb" makes absolutely no sense. Everyone should say "stuck out like a broken heart", because the broken things are always easiest to see.

* * *

**Miley's POV: **

_I stepped out of the shower. The steam enveloped my body with its humid grips and I grabbed a towel off the towel rack. I wrapped it around my body and wrapped another around my wet hair. Water dripped from my body and formed a small puddle around my feet. I made my way slowly to the bedroom, where I turned the radio on. _

_Jake wasn't home yet, so I allowed myself to turn the dial to the country station. He did not enjoy country music and, out of courtesy of him, I didn't listen to it where he could hear it. But now I was alone and I wanted to just relax and listen to the sounds of my childhood. The greatest thing about country music would have to be the emotion. For every one song in other genres that makes you feel an extreme emotion, I could name twenty five country ones. Another lovely plus was that they still played songs from when I grew up. I could stop listening to this station for three years and still be able to sing along with mostly any song that came on. _

_Presently, an old Garth Brooks song was humming through the speakers. I sang along by habit. I wasn't even sure what words I was singing. _

_I started to open my drawers to get dressed, but thankfully, I noticed the curtains were still open before I dropped the towel. I quickly strolled over to the window, pulling them shut. I glowered at them once they were hiding me from the view of the outside world, as if that would make them stay put next time._

_I moved back to the dresser, pulling open the top drawer. I idly rummaged through the drawer, not really paying attention to what I was doing. My mind wandered to the task I was going to have to perform just about two hours from now. I needed to ask him…to tell him how I felt. But I didn't know how to go about it. I didn't have to ask last time. It just…happened. Before I had tried my best to keep my wishes chthonic, but I'd woken up this morning and knew I had to talk to him about it. It wasn't fair to either of us for me to keep this a secret. _

_I pulled a pair of panties from the drawer and tossed them on the bed. I pulled out a bra and threw it somewhere near the other undergarment as well. I opened the drawer under the top and tried to decide what to wear. It was ten o'clock. Cole was sound asleep, exhausted from his first week of school. Jake had to fly to New York City Wednesday to bring his students to this sort of workshop for aspiring actors and actresses. He was due back in about an hour and I missed him. _

_I pulled a tanktop from the drawer and pulled a pair of green shorts from the one underneath it. My thoughts—as most thoughts tend to do—drifted back toward what I was dreading. I wondered how he'd react. Would he be angry or uncomfortable? Would he tell me no if he didn't want to, or would he say yes even if he didn't want to? Would he want this as much as I?_

_My thoughts stopped suddenly, and I felt lips press to the back of my neck. My heartbeats became faster and I smiled widely. His hands snaked around my waist and his lips pressed against my right ear. I could feel his smile. _

"_Well don't you just look heavenly," He breathed. I spun around and tossed my arms around him. He hugged me back, laughing at my eagerness. I kept my head against his chest and shut my eyes for a moment, as if taking a picture of this moment and the way I felt._

"_I missed you." I muttered, as if he didn't already know that. I glanced up at him and he dipped his head down, catching my lips with his. The kiss was palpable with emotions and I clenched my fist around the material of his shirt. When he pulled away he smiled at me. _

"_I missed you, too." He pulled me against his body again, but didn't pull out of the hug. I felt a blush start at my collarbone and rise to my face as my towel slipped. I couldn't move my arm; much less use it to hold the towel in place. I buried my face in his chest in embarrassment. _

"_Oh hush," He murmured, his voice soft, "You're beautiful." _

_This just made me blush ever harder. Two days without having him see me without clothes on had me acting like he never had before. _

"_I missed you." I whispered again, because I wasn't sure what else to say. And I didn't want to have to talk about what I needed to yet. He chuckled, and ducked his head down to my shoulder. He kissed my neck softly and slowly, as if relishing the fact that we had all the time in the world together now. He continued kissing me as he started to walk back, his arm bringing me along. Our legs crashed into the edge of the bed, and sent us flopping down on _

_it. I froze in humiliation as the towel came open, and quickly tucked it shut again. I scooted closer to Jake and he kissed the hollow beneath my ear. His hand stroked the skin on the outside of my thigh and I couldn't remember what I needed to talk to him about for a minute. My mind was blissfully empty except for Jake, and I was glad for that. _

_It wasn't until my fingers started unbuttoning his shirt that I remembered what I was supposed to be saying to him right now. I hated my voice of reason right then, and tried to make it shut up for once. _

_I tried to tell myself I could just let myself get caught up in the moment and tell him afterwards. But I knew it wouldn't be fair to him if I asked him after. I could ask him for Buenos Aires and he would be in Argentina by this time tomorrow, money in hand, asking random people _¿Cuánto es Buenos Aires?, _and not even know it was absurd. _

_I pulled out of the kiss._

"_Jake." I pushed his name through my lips before I could chicken out. He kissed down my jaw line. I repeated his name. _

_He glanced up, his eyes a darker shade of green. I bit my lip nervously. _

"_I need to ask you something." _

_He seemed to understand that it was important. He was always good at catching onto my thoughts. He looped an arm around my waist and pulled me up to the top of the bed. He sat with his back against the headboard, and pulled me down between his legs. I pulled the blankets up on me, still slightly embarrassed that my only attire kept falling down. His hands moved into my wet hair and stroked through it. _

"_What do you need to talk about?" He asked, his voice still a pitch too deep. I felt bad for interrupting what was going on. I shouldn't have even let it get that far without talking to him. _

_I nervously turned my head to look at him. He smiled easily at me. _

"_What is it?" He asked, suddenly concerned, "You can tell me." _

_I took a deep breath. _

"_I…can't tell you." _

_I mentally slapped myself. _

_He touched my cheek, "Sure you can. I could probably guess it if you gave me a little hint." _

"_You don't know me _that _well." I muttered, thinking about my request. I meant for it to come out as a joke, but it sounded a little too sober. _

"_I know you better than you know yourself." He said, kissing my shoulder. _

_He did._

"_Like how?" I challenged. He turned his head and rested his cheek against my shoulder. _

"_Like how you've got a small freckle on the back of the third toe on your left foot. Like how you hate maple and brown sugar oatmeal but eat it anyway because Cole likes it. Like how you hate the smell of Sharpies…shall I go on?" _

_I frowned, trying to place a time in which I'd told him all of this. His first was bothering me. _

"_Strike one," I sang, "I don't have a freckle on my toe." _

_He leaned his head forward, catching my eye. He raised his eyebrows._

"_Bet!" _

"_Okay. If I have a freckle there…I'll stop interrupting what was going on." I smiled sweetly at him. _

_He leaned his head back, a self-assured smirk on his face. I pushed the blanket off me and grabbed my left foot. I pulled it up to eyelevel. I glanced at the back of my third toe. Sure enough, there was a dark freckle. _

"_Ha!" Jake exclaimed. _

"_It's just a piece of dirt," I lied. _

"_You just got out of the shower! And if it then why don't you wipe it off?" _

"_Well maybe I will!" _

_I tried to scrape it off but it wouldn't, because it was indeed a freckle. _

"_It's a _stubborn _piece of dirt?" I tried. _

"_I win! Take back that strike." _

"_Fine. You were right. But you still don't know everything about me." I leaned back against him, and he held me close. I rested my head against his shoulder and kissed his neck, an apology for however what I was about to say was going to affect him. _

"_You don't know what I wish," I whispered. He was quiet for a moment, the seriousness of my voice stilling him. _

"_Yes I do," He started in an offhand voice, "You want a baby." _

_I tensed in his arms. He laughed behind me. I couldn't seem to make myself move. He really did know me better than I thought. _

"_I'm just kidding!" He felt my sudden rigidness and paused. I shut my eyes. _

"_Wait…you…" He stopped. He turned me so he could see my face. His was sparked with curiosity._

"_You want a baby, Miley?" _

_I looked away in mortification. _

"_I know what the doctor said. And I know that it's kind of soon. And I know that asking you is probably really stupid because you probably don't want another baby. But…I can't help it. I just…see these babies and I…I want one. I want to carry your baby and I want us to have another child and I want Cole to have a sibling. I wasn't going to say anything…but…it's been driving me _mad_." _

_His face was thoughtful as he seemed to turn the idea over in his head. I couldn't seem to breathe as I waited for his response. When he didn't say anything for a whole minute, I got nervous and discouraged. _

"_Never mind. I'm sorry I asked; I shouldn't have sprung something like that on you when you just got back. I totally just ruined everything. I really should learn when to—_

_He pressed me down gently on the mattress, hovering over me. He kissed me long and hard. He pulled away and I felt flushed in a whole different way. _

"_Is that a no?" I asked, breathlessly. _

_He kissed me again, this one shorter. _

"_That's a hell yes," He murmured against my lips. My heart expanded and I wanted to jump with joy. _

"_Really?! Do you really want to have another baby?!" I asked, happiness leaked from each vowel. _

_He smiled happily. _

"_I'd never really thought about it before, but now that I do…I think that would be wonderful. We're ready, don't you think? Five is a good age to introduce Cole to another sibling." _

"_Yes," I agreed. I paused. "Do you think it would be good for our relationship?" _

_He leaned back down, kissing me with more force than I expected. I kissed back, hoping this was a yes. _

_He raised his eyebrows when he pulled away. _

"_What do you think?" _

_I was suddenly overwhelmed by opportunity. I saw my stomach growing larger, and feeling new life inside me. I saw me and Jake with a beautiful baby. I saw Cole growing up with more company. I saw myself tucking another child into bed. But most of all, I saw a happier future. _

_I lifted my head and pressed my lips to Jake's. We kissed torridly for a few minutes until I pulled away._

"_Is that a no?" Jake mocked. _

_I smirked. "What do you think?" I mocked back at him. _

_His hands found the place I'd tucked my towel shut and he pulled it lose, letting the towel fall away from my body. The cold air shocked me, but he pulled me to him quickly enough. He kissed the center of my chest and seemed to be mumbling the next words straight into my heart. _

"_I think this is just what we all need."_

* * *

Jake woke me up.

It was early, early in the morning. I could tell from the way my eyelids felt too heavy and the light was dim as it shined through the curtains. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, with his arms around me.

"I got your prescription filled," He whispered into the dark, "Come try to take some medicine."

I felt him pull me into a sitting position and I drooped against his shoulder, too tired to sit up straight.

I heard the sound of pills being shaken out of a container, and water being poured into a glass.

His hands were soft and cool on my face. He held my jaw and gently tipped my head back a little. I reached out blindly for the pills, but he already dropped them into my mouth. I swallowed the water that was poured in my mouth and felt the pills go down. I randomly realized just how much I trusted him right then. I was letting him give me medicine without even checking to see what the hell it was. But then again if the time ever did come where he would kill me, I'd want to be dead anyway.

I collapsed back on the bed, pain shooting through my body. Jake went back to his side of the bed, and I pulled the covers back over me.

"You were crying in your sleep," He explained, "I hope the medicine helps."

I didn't have the heart, nor the energy, to explain to him that what hurt couldn't be fixed with pain medication.

* * *

For the first time since it happened, I didn't wake up with people talking around/near me. I woke up almost pleasantly, with my physical pain edged away a bit, and the warm sun shining through the window and onto my face. I was still tired, which seemed impossible to me after all the sleep I had been getting. I decided not to question it, though. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to sleep. I needed to sleep. I needed to escape.

I sat up. My back was sore from sleeping so long and I quietly tried to stretch it. Jake was sleeping soundly at my side, and a smile took hold of my face. He looked so beautiful, so peaceful, that I felt at ease myself. The sunlight was fighting a losing battle with the golden 

hues of his hair, and every plane of him seemed to be perfect. His hand was warm on top of the covers, and I gently took it in my own, connecting the puzzle. He startled and a few moments later was wide awake, sitting up with an almost dazed expression on his face like he couldn't believe he went to sleep.

"I'm sorry," I whispered softly. I hadn't meant to wake him up. I started to drop his hand, but his fingers tightened around mine. He smiled a tense smile.

"It's alright. Do you feel better?"

I noticed the dark circles under his eyes and realized he probably lost all sleep by going out to get the prescription.

"Yes. Thank you for going out to get the medicine," I fell silent and watched the green of his eyes while trying to think of a color that explained them. _Marvelous._ "I love you."

This smile was easy and it lit up his face.

"I love you, too. I always will." I smiled a smile as big as I could manage. I looked to check the time, and suddenly noticed something I hadn't before.

There were suitcases at the foot of the bed. My heart stopped and I automatically thought back to all those years ago when he'd told me he'd always love me and then left. He was sick of me, and that was understandable. But that didn't make me hurt any less.

"You're leaving." I was surprised at how deadpanned my voice sounded. I guess at this point nothing really came to a surprise to me.

His arm looped around my waist and he kissed my neck.

"We all are."

He gently took my face and turned it over to the side so that I was staring at bags of my own. I figured I should have been mad that he'd made the decision to just up and leave without me, but felt the urge to either cry or kiss him for it. I thought about being away from these places that filled me with sorrow and it was a welcomed scenario. Maybe it could be an auspicious beginning of sorts. I never pictured us as evanescent in this house.

"Where will we go?" I asked hushed voice.

His thumb caressed my hand as he thought.

"Anywhere you want. Paris, London, Rome, Madrid…hell, even Oklahoma."

I sniffed as I thought about leaving this home, this bed, this room and all its memories.

"Not for good, right? Just like a vacation?"

"Yes. Just like a vacation. And if you think being away helps…then we can move for good."

"What does Cole do about school?" I asked.

"Let's see about enrolling him in an online high school, just for right now." He muttered, "We'll take the laptops with the wireless cards so wherever we are he can go to school."

"You've thought this through," I whispered.

He looked me in the eyes.

"If you don't want to go, just tell me. I'll unpack all the bags and it won't bother me at all. I just want to do what you want to do."

I glanced around the room. We weren't leaving for good, just for a little while. And if we left then it could protect Cole from whoever kept sending me those flowers.

"Just for a little while," I stared out the window.

"Are you sure?"

I watched the sun shine through the glass and suddenly had the urge to cover it up with the curtains.

"Positive."

"Then we'll pack everything we need today. We'll make all the calls we need to, and then we'll be on the road by dawn tomorrow."

"The SUV needs gas. I guess that's what we'll take?" I looked at Jake for conformation. He nodded.

"We'll get that taken care of too." His eyes studied my face and he slowly touched his hand to the bandage covering my stitches. "It makes you look so broken." _Maybe that's because I am. _

"I'm fine." I lied.

The worse part about being broken is you never can seem to find every piece that's lost.


	24. Gray

**A/n: **Sorry for the wait! I had a busy week and weekend. Thank you so much for all the reviews and thanks to Alyssa (daisy617) and Jen (SVUlover) who beta'd this chapter and Lani (BeautifulxxDisasterx) who supplied the quote :). Oh, and make sure to watch Dancing With the Stars Monday at eight and Tuesday at nine and VOTE FOR CODY AND JUILANNE! Their number is 1-800-868-3401 and you can vote many times. If you can't call, you can go on ABC's website and cast your vote there! If you have AT&T you can text and vote. Hell, you can do all three! I know I will ;)

* * *

**"You cannot separate the just from the unjust and the good from the wicked; For they stand together before the face of the sun even as the black thread and the white are woven together."-- Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet**

* * *

The door opened with a gust of hot, sticky air. She grimaced and screwed the lid on the electric blue fingernail polish she'd been liberally applying to her nails since nine this morning. The coat of polish was so thick on them that it was almost like she had another nail. But she liked the color. It was vivid and bright against the black and white furniture.

When she was growing up, she always pictured living in a house straight out of a home style magazine, with rich, beautiful colors and classy accessories. In college, her dorm room had been exploding with color and bursting to the seams with funky paraphernalia. Her roommate, in contrast, had a black blanket and a set of speakers that played gothic music at random hours of the day.

She loved to listen to tintinnabulations, but hadn't a single wind chime on her property. She loved animals but hadn't ever had a pet. And the reasons for this and so much more was her husband. He didn't like tinkling noises, or affectionate puppies intent on yapping all night. He didn't want a house with bright colors thrown every which way that evoked migraines. And because he didn't want it, he didn't have it. No matter that she liked it; that was a fine detail in the complicated novel that was their marriage.

It may sound as though he was a selfish, lazy oaf of a husband. But really, she didn't mind! He was beautiful and mysterious with a sharp mind and haunting eyes. He was everything she was drawn to, but never made the initiative to break rules to get to. Until a few years ago. And now she was happy but unhappy at the same time. But she was with him, and that's all that really mattered.

He stood in front of her, six feet and three inches of everything she ever needed. His lip twitched with the possibility, the idea, of a smile. The one twitch made her heart patter and her own lips stretch back in a large grin. The things other women wouldn't even notice meant so much to her, because she knew even showing this much emotion was hard for him. He'd confessed three years ago, in a moment of vulnerability, that she was the only thing he was capable of loving and respecting. It wasn't that his heart was too small; it was just it had been broken so many times that the pieces had gotten lost. And she liked the idea that she filled the only pieces he had left.

His eyes stayed familiar, something that chilled her stomach. She'd expected a spark of triumph, of relief, of a new beginning. Something had gone wrong. The idea seemed bad to her, and it was then that she realized just how messed up he'd made her morals. Now her morals went along these lines: If he is happy and whole, it is okay.

"What happened?" She asked, lowering her voice in case their child was in hearing distance.

He rubbed the back of his neck. It was such a normal action that it shocked her. Her husband was far from your average all-American guy. He sat down in the seat beside the couch and breathed deeply, something she'd coached him to do when his temper got too much for the both of them to handle.

"It didn't help," He whispered, his eyes glazed over and seeing something she couldn't. "Not at all. In fact…it made it _worse_."

She was overwhelmed with disappointment. Her husband had his demons and his cravings that got in the way of his life with her and their daughter. He confessed that he just wanted to stop feeling like that, stop having those impulses, but he compared it to the way it would feel if someone knocked you unconscious and tied strings to you, playing puppet. She wanted him to see a psychiatrist but he said he knew from firsthand accounts they were just a bunch of society-based lies bent on making psychos feel like they had hope.

She swallowed and absentmindedly stroked the jewels on the bracelet he'd bought her after one of his fits.

"I'm sorry. Maybe it'll get better after a few days."

He shook his head, his eyes hard.

"It never does. I'm going to bed." He stood up from the chair and walked toward the stairs, unbuttoning his jacket as he did. She then wondered why he was even wearing one. It was rather hot today.

She felt words bubbling just behind her lips and she ground her teeth, trying to keep the fragment of who she used to be from flying out of her mouth. But apparently she used to be more charismatic than she thought, because the new, weaker her couldn't hold the words from the old her back.

"Is she dead?"

He halted, his jacket hanging limp in his arms. He turned around, his eyes hard; searching hers for something he never wanted to see. He wordlessly turned around, but not before she saw the blood that saturated his shirt and wondered just how vociferously the girl had screamed.

* * *

MILEY'S POV:

"I can do it."

I gently pulled the package of gauze, medical tape, and bandages from his hands. He frowned, but didn't say anything as I climbed off the bed and hurried into the bathroom. I shut the door behind me. With my stomach churning, I ran to the toilet and collapsed in a heap in front of it. My heart hurt so badly that the pain radiated to my stomach, making me so nauseous that even the water I'd taken the pain medicine with had forced its way up and out. After I had nothing left to throw up, I fell over and rested my cheek on the cool, tile floor. I was freezing but sweating at the same time and I couldn't seem to stop shaking. Every little noise—the drip of the faucet, the humming of the plumbing, the sound of my own labored breathing—sent me into frightful hysterics. I tried to tell myself I was being ridiculous but my body wouldn't listen.

It started this morning. Jake coaxed me into taking a bite of toast, and about ten minutes later, when I'd drifted off, at I was suddenly not where I should have been. I was physically on the couch but my mind was somewhere else. It was in a van, where I was watching myself die. And I realized that I'd been having these nightmares ever since it happened. My mind was just too tired to register them before.

As I pulled myself up, I couldn't remember what I told people so often I used to be able to say it in my sleep. We called it the Ten Commandments for rape victims. And now that I was one, I couldn't think of it.

If I waited too long, or cried too loudly, Jake would hear me. I struggled to my feet and gathered the discarded items off the floor. I placed the box of bandages on the counter and tried to open the box with a shaky hand. I pried the cardboard open and pulled one out. I glanced at myself in the mirror, grimacing as I did. My hair looked horrible and my eyes were dark and red. I figured I'd start with the bandage on my face, since it was easiest to deal with. My fingers pried at the tape and I yanked the bandage off. It was soaked with blood and I turned away in disgust. The stitches were black and gruesome looking against the puffy, red skin that still had blood on it. I went and got the peroxide, and I poured some on a cotton ball. It stung as I pressed it to my cut, trying to guide it between the stitches to clean it up a bit. It bubbled and my eyes watered. I carefully applied Neosporin and a new bandage.

My next area of cleansing was either going to be the stitches on my stomach, or my back. I looked away from the mirror and struggled out of my shirt. My bra was a strapless, soft, almost weightless one that didn't press against the stitches on my back. The cut went from the edge of my left shoulder to the edge of my right shoulder blade. I avoided the mirror and tried to figure out how I was going to do that one. I touched the bandage and felt my spine beneath my fingers. I shuddered as I thought about what could have happened if the knife had sunk any deeper.

I turned around and decided to deal with my stomach. And as I did, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I grimaced at the discoloration of my skin and tried not to look at it. But something else caught my eyes and hooked into my mind. My fingers grazed the skin on my neck and I went into a panic.

My necklace was gone. My necklace…I kept it on…I had it on before…

I gasped for air as I ran across the bathroom. I opened my jewelry box and eyed all the necklaces. When it wasn't there, I felt my eyes and throat burn.

The day I found out I was pregnant with Joy, Jake bought me a beautiful necklace. He knew I was nervous for the checkup and bought this monstrosity of a gift. After we got the good news he gave it to me, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. But besides that, it reminded me of a time when I believed I had thousands of options and new beginnings to come. It was hope.

The necklace in itself cost so much Jake would never tell me the exact price. It had real diamonds and it encircled my neck. It had diamonds arranged to look like small flowers and between each flower were three individual diamonds. And that bastard had it.

I couldn't remember putting it on that morning, but it wasn't here. I must have. It would have been reflex to do it. I couldn't remember him actually taking it, but that doesn't mean he didn't. I couldn't remember having my stomach cut, but I knew that happened.

I couldn't explain why it hurt so much, but I couldn't even hold myself up. I cried and in a minute it seemed Jake was by my side.

"What is it?" He asked, "What's hurts?"

_My heart. _

"My necklace is gone," I told him, "It's gone. I think…I think he took it."

It was like that man had even invaded our relationship. He took from me, but he couldn't take from Jake and me. I couldn't take that.

Jake was appalled.

"You're worried about that necklace when you're sliced up every which way?" He exclaimed, disbelief emitting from him. I knew I would never be able to explain the way I felt to him so I just stayed silent, feeling even more betrayed.

He reached for the bandages but I stopped him again.

"I can do it," I struggled out.

"You're so stubborn." He said softly.

I thought about how I refused to stay home with him and I agreed.

"Yes," I whispered, "I am."

A silence drifted in and he made no move to leave my side.

"I'm fine," I whispered, "I'll be out in a few minutes."

He lingered for a few moments but then reluctantly left. I felt like I wasn't me for a moment as I stripped out of my clothes and got into the shower. I washed myself until it hurt to even touch my skin and even then I stayed under the water. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to get my stitches wet but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything. I wasn't sure of who I was, or if I was even here anymore. I lost of part of me that held me down and without it I always felt like I was hovering a few inches off the ground, looking down at myself and sometimes blanking out. It was so stressing and confusing that if I didn't know my mind was protecting me from the pain I would have thought I was insane.

I stood in the shower and felt the memories and his words creeping up me and I quickly scrambled for own memory to combat that with. I always forget that when you fight fire with fire…

* * *

_I had just finished fixing Cole's hair when he knocked a jug of grape juice all over me. _

"_Dammit!" _

_I flew back, and the glass pitcher shattered as it hit the floor. Cole burst into tears, blubbering about how he didn't mean to do it. I quickly picked him up and carried him into the living room so he wouldn't get glass in his feet. _

"_For Christ's sake!" I yelled as I examined my now ruined dress and the mess on the floor, "Why is it almost impossible for anything to ever go right around here?!" _

_I was so stressed out that I was surprised I hadn't had a stroke by now. Jake's family was having this giant family reunion tonight, and for some reason I couldn't seem to relax about it. I wanted them to like me, to think Cole was a good child, to be proud of Jake. But everywhere I turned there seemed to be something going wrong. I had to go into the studio at the crack of dawn this morning, and I'd been recording songs the whole day. I didn't get out of there until five PM and this reunion is at six o'clock and it's halfway across town. We were already running late and now, just as I thought things were going good, this happened. _

_I danced around the broken glass and pulled a dishtowel out of the drawer. I threw it on top of the mess, hoping that would ward everyone away from it until I could get it cleaned up. _

_I went out back to the living room, and a sobbing Cole ran over to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed his face into my stomach as he cried. _

"_Mama," He sobbed, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!" _

_I stroked his hair and hugged him for a moment before gently moving him away from me and getting a good look at his clothes. He'd only gotten the juice on his shoes and the bottom of his pants. Unfortunately, those were the only pair of nice pants he owned. I never thought my five-year-old would need a wardrobe of nice clothes. _

"_Please sit here, Cole," I set him down in the chair, "And I'll be right back."_

_I hurried up the stairs and into his room. I opened drawer after drawer and rummaged all through his closet but I couldn't find anything for him to wear. I ran a hand through my hair and tried not to cry. Nothing was going right. We had twenty minutes to get ready and be over there and there was no way on possible we would make it. This is a disaster. _

_I walked back down the stairs and for the next ten minutes I tried to get the stain out of his pants. But it wasn't budging. I helped him back in them and decided he'd just have to wear those. _

_I turned the TV on and flipped to his favorite channel. _

"_I'm going to go get changed now, Coley." I told him, "Please, please, _please _don't run off and ruin your clothes any more than they already are. Just sit here." _

_He nodded. He was already absorbed in the television. I walked as fast as possible to the bedroom, trying to think of another dress I could wear. I hurried in the room and opened my closet. It held my more practical clothes, and the clothes I needed were in the bathroom. I stripped the soaked dress off and banged my fist on the closed bathroom door. _

"_I need to get in there, Jake!" My voice was hysterical and I wanted to scream and cry at the same time. He opened the door a second later. His tie was untied and his shirt still unbuttoned. _

"_What the hell?!" I exploded, "You've been getting ready for like an hour! Why aren't you dressed already?! Get over here," I angrily grabbed his hand and yanked him over to me. I glared at him as I buttoned his shirt. Once it was buttoned right I reached up to tie his tie and his hands caught mine. _

"_Whoa, whoa, whoa…where's the fire?" He asked, looking more relaxed than I could ever hope to feel. _

"_On our asses if we don't get out of this damn house right now!" I snapped, shaking my hands out of his grip. I quickly tied his tie, and glared his way once more before hurrying over to the closet. I sifted through the clothes for something acceptable. I found a nice cobalt sweater dress that looked appropriate and I yanked it off the hanger. I hurried into the bedroom and started to pull it on when a long, extremely noticeable run in my pantyhose caught my eye. _

"_God dammit!" I screamed furiously as I blinked back tears. I punched the wall in my fury and started to strip them off me, trying to think if I had another pair. I tossed them across the room and stood back up. I searched my drawers and located an older pair in the very back. I let out a breath of relief and hung my dress over the open drawer. I started back to the bed to put them up when Jake pulled me into his arms. Of course that was my favorite place to be, but right then I was panicking too much to want to be calm. I struggled against his grip and he released me a little. He pressed his palm over my heart. _

"_You need to calm down," He said sternly. I thought he was dead serious until his goofy grin took hold of his features. _

_He took my hand in his. _

"_Come on," He pulled me over to the bed and motioned for me to sit down. I reluctantly did, telling myself if he did anything to waste more time I'd get up and leave. He took the pantyhose from my hands and kneeled down on the floor in front of me. He studied them, an adorable, confused look on his face. I knew this was just wasting time but his expression was hilarious and I couldn't stop laughing. He grabbed my foot by the arch and held it up, almost as if measuring how this was going to work. _

"_Give me that," I laughed, reaching for the hose. He pulled his arm out of my reach. _

"_I have this!" He exclaimed, determination set in his expression. He pushed my left foot into them and tried to pull it up, only growing more puzzled when they didn't seem to be going up any further on my leg. He fiddled with it for another minute before angrily tearing them off me and tossing them across the room. _

"_Jake!" I exclaimed, "what did you do that for?! We're going to be even later now!" I tossed him an angry look before I tried to stand up and go get them. He gently grabbed my legs which threw me off balance and sent me falling back on the bed. _

"_It wouldn't even matter if you didn't insist on putting mosquito netting on your legs." He argued, a cocky smile on his face. _

"_You know, a lot of men have a fetish for pantyhose." I shot back, glancing at the clock and trying not to hyperventilate. _

_He kissed above my right kneecap and smoothed his hands down my calves. _

"_Yeah. Men with wives who have ugly legs." He grinned up at me, kissing the same spot he did before. _

"_I can't look trampy. Now let go of me, we really have to go." I squirmed in his grip. He kissed me again. _

"_We don't have to go," He reasoned, "We're already pretty late." _

"_Yes we do have to go! It's a reunion!" I argued. _

"_I don't care." His voice was muffled and sleepy as he rested it on my thigh. I sighed and pulled at his arm. He glanced up at me and I patted the spot beside me on the bed. He let go of my legs and sat beside me. He laid back and I did also, feeling fatigue rush over me. _

"_They're your family. Of course you care." _

_He kissed the corner of my mouth, "You guys are more my family than they are." _

_I unconsciously moved closer to him and he draped an arm over my waist. _

"_You've known them longer." _

_His fingers stroked the small of my back and I pressed my face into his neck, breathing in the scent that surrounded my life. _

"_But I love you more." _

_I kissed him, hoping the way I felt about him would be clear. My hands wound in his hair and when we pulled away we sighed simultaneously. _

"_You know we have to go." I told him._

"_No we don't." He said stubbornly, his words undulating against my skin. _

"_What would we tell your mother?" _

_His familiar, arrogant smirk fitted his face. He leaned down, kissing the very edge of my jaw. _

"_That we were too busy making more people to come to the reunion." _

_I flushed and smiled at him. _

"_I don't think we can do that." _

"_Could so." _

_I moved out of his grasps and sat up, immediately wishing I hadn't. _

"_We have to go and be mature for once." _

_He grimaced. _

"_At least don't wear the pantyhose. I need something to keep me occupied." He sat up and playfully wiggled his eyebrows. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. _

"_Thank you." I said. _

"_For what?" _

"_For always being able to make me feel better." _

_He grinned and leaned back on his elbows. _

"_That's just one of my many talents. You're lucky you married the most talented and sexy man in the world. Most women are sitting at home dreaming about being with me." _

_I groaned, "And then his ego comes out." _

"_You know you love it." _

"_I love it when you shut up." I jokingly snapped, a smile already taking hold of my expression. _

_He ran his hands along the sides of my waist and pulled me down into his lap. _

"_Less talk and more action, huh?" _

_I turned in his arms before he could kiss me, and he pressed his mouth against mine right before I spoke. I pulled away. _

"_No. A little less ego and a lot more you." _

_He tightened his arms around me, pulling me closer. _

"_Okay. More me. No objections there. But the ego comes with." _

"_You know I didn't mean it like that," I blushed, "And I know. That's something I've accepted." I sighed. "Learn to love the flaws, I suppose." _

_He kissed me hard before letting go of me. I stumbled out of his arms I grabbed my dress off the drawer. I pulled it on and picked out a pair of shoes, pulling them on also. I decided I could redo my hair in the car._

"_Come on." I said to Jake. _

_I walked out of the bedroom with Jake and when I entered the living room I was speechless. _

_Cole looked up from the paint can in front of him and smiled. _

"_I'm painting the stain bye-bye, mama!" _

_And I fainted._

* * *

…you always get burned.

I got out of the shower and pulled my clothes on my wet body. I patted my stitches dry with a towel. I put a clean bandage on the ones easily to get to and walked into the bedroom. Jake looked up and I stared at him for a moment.

"I need help." I admitted sheepishly. I couldn't ignore the double meaning of my statement.

He followed me into the bathroom and cleaned the stitches on my back. He applied bandages down the length of it until it was all covered and then wrapped gauze around it. The gauze circled over my chest and I thought about the scene in the movie _Titanic _where Rose's mother was tying her corset. When he was done he kissed the back of my head.

"You're going to be okay." He whispered.

_No I'm not. _

"We need to talk to Cole about this." I said. He nodded and handed me my shirt. I pulled it back over my head and he took my hand. I followed him wherever he took me. I wasn't even paying attention to where we were going. We ended up in the kitchen. Cole was eating lunch at the table and idly sketching in a sketchbook.

We sat down across from him. He looked up and slid the sketchbook into his lap.

"We need to talk." I was a little shocked that the words came from my mouth.

Cole raised his eyebrows, "About?"

Jake rested his arms on the table and sighed.

"We're all going away for a little while."

There was an overwrought silence.

"What do you mean? Where are we going? Why?" He asked.

"We're just going to go on…a sort of vacation. Just for a little while. And we don't know yet. Because…we all need a vacation."

"What about school?" He asked.

"Online. It's only four hours a day. You could do that in the car or wherever we are."

I expected him to very choleric over this, but he seemed to take it fine.

"When are we leaving?"

Jake and I exchanged glances. I think both of us expected an explosion.

"Tomorrow morning. You should start packing as soon as possible."

He took the last bite of his sandwich and started to stand up. He paused.

"Can I have my iPod back to listen to in the car?"

* * *

Jake had packed my stuff well. I went through the bags, just making sure that he didn't pack all shirts or something like that, but he hadn't. He packed jeans and T-shirts and most all the relaxing clothes I'd ever need. I wandered through the house, dropping things that held value to me in a black gym bag. So far I had certain jewelry, home videos, important documents, and knickknacks that meant something to me. I climbed the attic stairs slowly, ignoring the ache of pain that was permanently staining my body.

I sat down on the wooden floor and grabbed the first box. This one had the wedding photo album and pictures of up to age two. I pulled them out and placed them in the bag. I went around picking out pictures that were important to me and the last I placed in the bag were the ones that used to take up residence under the floorboard.

Once I had all that packed, I stopped in my office to use the phone. I needed to call my dad and talk to him before we left. I set the back down in the doorway and walked over to the desk. I picked up my phone and dialed the familiar number. It rang four times before he picked up, laughing at something from the TV.

"Hi, Daddy." I said.

"Miles! How are you, bud?" He asked.

I sighed and mindlessly pulled the drawers open and shut them.

"Not too well." I admitted. "Listen dad, we're leaving."

I could hear the TV in the background.

"Leaving where?"

"California. We're leaving in the morning."

"Why?!" He exclaimed.

"It's just too hard to be here," I said, my voice lowering to a whisper, "I think it would be good for us all to just get away."

"Running away doesn't solve anything." He said.

"Taking a break does."

"How long?"

"I don't know. I'll miss you though."

"I'll miss you too, honey. I love you, Mile."

I sniffed, "I love you too, daddy."

"I'll call you later." He said.

"Alright. Talk to you then. Bye."

I hung up before either of us could say anything to make this harder. Jake had already called Alana, and she wasn't too thrilled either. But she understood.

I stood up and grabbed the bag and started back down the stairs. When I got into the living room Jake was sitting on the phone, looking annoyed. Three guesses who was on the phone.

"…yes. I know. I know. I know. Yes, I know. Mmhmm. Exactly. Listen, Mom, I've got to….no, of course not. Yes. I do love you. Because I have to go! It's not that I don't like you! I just have to go, alright?"

I smiled and he grinned back.

"I'll tell her. I'll tell him. Yes. I KNOW THE FREAKING SPEED LIMIT! …Sorry. I said I was sorry! I'm sorry, Mom. Yes. I know. I'm a horrible, horrible person. I'll never raise my voice at you ever again. Never."

I placed the bag in the pile of luggage by the door.

"No, that's okay I don't need to—Hi dad. …Sure, I remember. What about it? Okay. Yes. I know we are pretty amazing, aren't we? Jealous indeed."

I rolled my eyes at their egos. Jake covered the mouthpiece.

"Do you think we've overused the scissors excuse?"

I stacked the suitcases so they wouldn't fall over.

"Probably. Exactly how many times have we used that excuse in the last few years?"

"Too many to count. Go for it."

He let go of the mouthpiece and I screamed.

"FRIGGIN' SCISSORS!" I yelped.

"Oh man, Dad, I have to go. Mishap with a pair of scissors here! I'll talk to you later! Love you guys! Bye!"

He ended the phone call and smiled.

"You're getting very good at that."

"Why thank you."

A heavy moment of silence fell over us and for once I felt like maybe, just maybe, if we could get back to the way it was before, things would be just fine.

* * *

_The clock hit eight and I was beginning to get worried. Cole sighed impatiently and set down his fork. _

"_Where's daddy?" _

_I took a sip of my drink, trying not to look worried. _

"_He's still filming, honey." _

_Cole picked his fork back up and stabbed it at the fettucine alfredo. I picked up my glass again. _

"_He's been filming for tons of hours," He grumbled, "That director must be in love with him or something."_

_I snorted, holding my hands over my mouth as I tried to laugh and swallow my drink at once. Cole looked at me oddly which just made me laugh even more. I looked away and composed myself enough to swallow the sip I had taken. _

"_It's just a demanding movie, Cole." I answered, still laughing at his previous comment. _

"_Well it needs to stop. He's never here for breakfasts or dinners or bedtimes no more." He chewed his food for a moment and then turned back to me, "He missed show and tell last Friday." _

"_I went to it." I reminded him. _

"_He said he was coming and he never did! He missed Martin talk about his pet Python!" _

"_Why don't you tell him about it when he gets home?" _

"_He's never coming home." He sighed. _

_I leaned over and pulled him in my arms. _

"_I'm sorry he's not here, Cole. He wants to be. He's just working very hard. His movie will be done soon and then he'll be here more." _

_He hugged me and then grew impatient when I didn't let go of him. _

"_I gotta eat, mommy." He complained. _

_I laughed and pulled away from him. I watched him eat and felt a sting of sadness at how much he had grown up. _

"_How was school today?" I asked him, watching the falling sun shine on his golden hair. _

_He frowned, "John said I was a girl lover." _

_I resisted the urge to laugh. _

"_Really? Why'd he say that?" _

_Cole shifted the pasta on his plate from one side to another. _

"_Because I was playing with Emily and Maria at recess." He turned to me, his blue eyes widened in disbelief, "He said I had cooties!" _

_I smiled at how adorable he was. _

"_You don't have cooties. Girls don't either. And it's perfectly okay to play with girls at recess." _

_He looked at me like I was stupid, "Girls have cooties." _

"_No they don't." _

"_Charles played with Sandy and he was sick for a week." _

"_Not because of cooties. I think it's nice that you're playing with Emily at school." _

"_Emily is my best friend." _

"_You see? Emily doesn't have cooties and she's a girl." _

"_I'm imm….imm…imm-one to her cooties." He struggled out. _

_I grinned at him. _

"_You're _immune_ to her cooties? Where'd you learn that word?" _

"_John says mommies and daddies are im…imm…--" _

"_Immune." _

"_Yeah. He says they are that to each other's cooties and Emily is my best friend like mommies and daddies are best friends." He reasoned, swirling his fork in the pasta. _

_I started to reply when I heard the front door open. I smiled and Cole jumped out of his seat excitedly. _

"_DADDY'S HOME!" He screamed, running toward the front door. I stood up from my own chair and went over to the stove. I put Jake's food in the microwave, knowing he'd be extremely tired. _

_I heard their voices from the hallway and turned around when they entered. Jake looked, as I had suspected, extremely tired. But in addition to that, I saw the familiar stitch of pain and sadness in his eyes that I'd come accustomed to seeing after he filmed. _

"—_Isn't that cool?!" Cole exclaimed from Jake's arms. _

_Jake set our son down in his chair and sat in his. _

"_That's very cool," He agreed, smiling even though he was exhausted. _

"_And then he said the python started eating the mouse by its head first and he kept sucking it in until there was…was…just a tail!" _

"_Wow!" He exclaimed, catching my eye. We smiled at each other and the microwave beeped from behind me. I opened it and pulled his plate out. I set it in front of him and he pressed a grateful kiss to my shoulder. _

"_Ewwwwwwww!" Cole exclaimed, turning away from us. We laughed and I sat down in my own chair. _

"_Can we play Clue after dinner?" Cole asked. He took a drink from his cup. _

_I glanced at Jake, who had his head resting on the table beside his plate. _

"_Why don't we watch a movie and we can play Clue tomorrow?" I offered. Cole nodded enthusiastically. _

"_Can I go pick out the movie now?!" _

_I glanced at his quarter-full plate. "Are you done with your dinner?" _

"_Yes!! Can I?!" _

"_Yes, but don't make a mess!" _

_He jumped up from his seat and went running out of the kitchen. I grabbed my plate and cup and Cole's and threw away the leftovers. I placed them in the sink and grabbed the juice out of the fridge. I filled my glass and I felt Jake's arms hug me from behind. He pressed his face into the curve of my neck and shoulder. I reached back and touched his head. _

"_Are you alright?" _

_He inhaled deeply. _

"_Just give me a minute." _

_My heart broke to see him like this. The movie he was working on was going to be epic. It was about a man (Jake's character) who fought in the Vietnam War. He came home early from the war after being shot in the chest, only to find himself losing it. He would forget where he was and drink himself into oblivion almost every night. Then his wife dies, and he has to try and get back on his feet so he can take care of his children. They were filming it basically backwards, so these past few weeks Jake had been working on the more horrible scenes. He's come home depressed over it. He gets so in character that his roles really take a toll on him. People who saw the movie would never know how much it hurt Jake. They'd just see an amazing movie. _

_I listened to his breathing for what seemed like minutes. Cole came running back in before Jake had even acted like he wanted to move. _

"_I got the movie!! Let's go, let's go, let's go!" _

_Jake took his head off my shoulder and followed Cole into the living room. I swallowed the tears I wanted to cry on Jake's behalf and followed them in. Jake put the movie in the DVD player and I sat on the couch. Cole turned off the lights and sat beside me and Jake sat on my other side. He wrapped an arm tightly around me and rested his head on top of mine. Cole jabbered throughout the previews and I stroked Jake's hair, trying to comfort him. _

"_What movie did you pick, Cole?" I asked. _

"_Zombie High, Zombie High, Zombie High!" He exclaimed. _

"_I thought we agreed on a movie, not a whole TV show season." I said. _

"_We don't got to watch _all _of them." He said matter-of-factly. I smiled and hugged him. He curled up to my side as the movie came on. _

_I watched the lights of the TV reflect on the wall and listened to the breathing of my two favorite boys. _This is the life, _I thought, _I don't need anything but them.

* * *

I rolled over as the alarm clock finally went off and turned it off. I hadn't slept at all that night and it made me feel sick with déjà vu. I thought back to the time when those nightmares about Luke were haunting me and how I never allowed myself to sleep. Everything seemed to be traveling in a complete circle. Once again I was running with Jake at my side. I wondered what else would follow in the same steps.

Jake was still asleep. We were going to eat breakfast and leave. We packed the car up last night and everything was in order to leave. I lay still for a few moments, and realized my and Jake's anniversary was coming up March tenth. That wasn't that long away. I wondered where we'd be spending it. Because something horrible always happened on the days before it, we hadn't been that happy on that day since a long time ago.

I watched him for what must have been the millionth time in the past few years. He needed to shave and his hair was getting a little out of control but he still captivated me. The moon was still out but I didn't feel tired at all. Just languid and withdrawn more than anything.

I placed my feet on the floor and stood up, shivering as the cold air rushed around me. I decided to see what the weather was like today. I hoped it wouldn't be raining. I traveled through the house and stood in front of the front door. I could hear the early morning birds chirping and I unlocked the door. I pulled it open, the cool, crisp air rushing around me.

The sky looked clear and I could tell it was going to be a cool day. I inhaled deeply, ready to get on the road. I stood in the doorway for a few more minutes before finally turning around to shut the door. It happened so suddenly that even when it was happening I wasn't sure what was. A hand grasp tightly around my wrist and I cried out, trying to get out of their grasps. I turned my head around, trying to see who was behind me. My eyes caught the face and I felt myself getting lightheaded.

"Let go of me!" I screamed, hoping Jake could hear me.

"No," He whispered lowly, "You let go of _me_."

He released my wrist and was gone before I could turn around. I pressed a hand over my frantic heart and cried out in relief. I quickly ran into the house and slammed the door shut and locked it. Jake was talking to me but I couldn't hear his words. I slid down on the floor, too weak to stand up.

It might have been a dream. But I glanced down at my right wrist and bright as Christmas wrapping paper was a bloody handprint, just like the papers Cole used to take home from pre-school with his little hands decorating it. I felt my stomach plunge with disgust and I frantically tried to wipe it off. But even when the blood was off my wrist I could hear the message clear as day: _You are marked. _

I looked up at Jake and tried to focus on his words and respond but the only thing running through my head wasn't anything he was saying.

I wasn't starting a new beginning at all. I was just going back to the very start of things. Can you repeat a broken circle?

I thought about his words, "_You let go of me"_, and pictured the way he had looked so many years ago.

Yes, you can. But not without falling into the gaps. And I'd been going through this shit so long that I couldn't even begin to imagine what could be left at the bottom of those gaps.

Jake held me and I blinked back tears.

_I don't want to ever have to find out. _


	25. New

**A/n: **Forgive me? I could list a hundred reasons why this is so late but none really matter. Thanks to those who reviewed and I hope some of you are still reading. If you are just drop by a review. Thanks :)

* * *

**"If I cut you down to a thing I can use, I fear there will be nothing good left of you." Evanescence, "Lose Control". **

* * *

His eyes drew mine in and I felt the air shiver and fall away from my lungs. His fingers traced the arch of my eyebrows, the curve of my waist, and the outline of my lips.

"Miley," His voice felt like warm, pleasant water settling around me. I sighed happily. "I want your heart."

I pressed my lips to his cheek and held him.

"You already have it."

His hands pressed over my heart and I could feel the pulse of his wrist against my skin. He shook his head slowly, a slow, easy smile spreading over his beautiful face. The vacuum that was his magic sucked the air from me again and I felt my hands drop, light as feathers.

"No," He kissed my nose, "I want your real heart."

My hands fluttered up and instinctively covered the spot where his hands were. He already had it in his hands. His hands felt warm underneath mine and he kissed my temple.

"But why?" I asked, horror oozing like slime from my words.

He dipped his head down, his lips playing a beautiful, new symphony across my neck.

"Because I love you."

My mind thought about how badly it would hurt and I whimpered. He pulled me closer to him.

"It's alright," He cooed against my hair, "Look at me."

I turned my eyes up and met his captivating ones. A self-sure grin spread across it and the confidence was contagious.

"Would I ever hurt you?" He asked slowly. I shook my head. He pressed his palm harder over my heart. "Would I ever betray your trust?" I felt the whisper "no" slip from my lips. I was completely sure.

He pulled his left hand away and reached behind him. He pulled a bundle of cloth out from behind him and held it heavily in this hand. He unraveled the cloth slowly and presented it to me like a gift. His pleading eyes bore into mine.

"Please," He breathed, his beauty stunning me, "If you love me, you'll give me your heart."

"I love you." I said, tears pricking my eyes.

"Then do this for me." He begged, his love reducing me into a pitiful puddle of pathetic compliance. I grasped my hands around the metal handle. It was cold to my touch. I cried out.

"I'm sorry," He immediately apologized, "That was cruel of me. I love you."

He took the knife from my hands and blew his warm breath onto it until the metal was warm to the touch. Breathlessly, he held it out again like it was a grand buffet waiting to be devoured. I held it up, the weight of it surprising me. It was a large, shiny kitchen knife.

"I love you so, so, so much." He whispered, "I would die without you."

"I love you, too." I breathed, "So, so, so much."

He looked pointedly at the knife in my hands, "I know."

His hand pulled off from above my heart and he placed his hands sweetly over mine so that they wouldn't shake.

"You are my sun and my stars and my oxygen," He murmured sweet-nothings into my ear as he brought the knife down to touch my pale skin. He just held it there for what felt like a day, melting me with his loving, delicate words.

I cried out as he pressed down harder on my hands, which forced the knife to slice the top layer of my skin ever so slowly. I could almost hear it slice, the sharp sound of something whole being broken.

"Do you remember," His lips were pressed so hard against my ear that it almost hurt, "Five years ago when we spent that time together? It was fun, wasn't it?"

I bit down sharply on my lip. The taste of blood filled my senses and it hurt so badly. Tears flowed down my face and pooled at the corners of my half-opened mouth.

"Yes." I whimpered, even though I had no idea what he was talking about.

He thrust the knife, sending me screaming. He grasped me close to him.

"What's wrong?!" He asked frantically, as if he truly didn't know. "You're fine! Don't scream! I'm right here. I'm right here and I love you."

I calmed, focusing on his words.

"You aren't going to hurt anymore, my love. Not ever again. This is all going to be over when you give your heart to me fully."

He moved his mouth from my ear and pressed his lips to my bloody ones. He kissed me softly, sweetly, loving. I could taste the words on his lips: I love you.

And he plunged the tip of the knife straight into my chest. The pain was unbearable and all I could do was scream. The last thing I heard was his relieved voice. The last thing I saw was his face.

"Finally." He whispered, "Finally you are my Miley."

And Jake smiled.

_

* * *

_

I jerked myself out of sleep quietly and gracefully. My heart was beating so hard and it ached at the very memory of the dream. I pressed my hand over it and kept my eyes shut, trying not to let my disturbance show.

"Where are we?" I heard Cole's bored voice over the roar of the engine.

"Still in California," Jake answered. His voice brought back memories of the dream and I shuddered. I didn't know which was more disturbing: that I dreamed my husband was ripping out my beating heart, or that I would let him.

The car lurched forward again and I opened my eyes. I stretched as well as I could from my seat and Jake smiled at me from the driver's seat. I winced as the picture of him smiling in my dream fluttered behind my eyes. The car slowed to a stop as the traffic got worse. The interstate was completely dark except for the lights of cars. I glanced at the dashboard. Eight o'clock.

"Are you okay?" He asked, concerned.

I shook my head, trying to clear the horrible thoughts.

"I'm fine. Why is it so quiet in here? Put on some music."

Jake pressed a button on the steering wheel and the radio came to life. It was playing some really obnoxious rap song so I rummaged around in the bag of CDs Jake had thought to pack. I located a mix CD with songs I probably didn't even remember on it and pushed it into the slot.

Familiar, comforting music filled the car and Cole groaned.

"Not old people music! Mom, where's the iPod charger for the car?"

Jake frowned at Cole's statement and I turned in my seat and looked back at the backseat. I eyed the compartment on the door. I pointed at it.

"It should be in there."

I waited as he searched through it. He pulled out the iPod charger and smiled.

"Thanks."

I smiled back too, maybe one of my first real smiles in a long time.

I settled back in my seat and looked out of the window for a few minutes. I liked the sight of everything being left behind. At least for once it wasn't me.

"Where are we?" I asked Jake, forgetting for a moment that Cole already asked that. He looked at me in humor.

"So that's where he gets it. We're still in California."

I eyed the circles underneath his eyes, his tired posture.

"Do you want me to drive?"

He shook his head quickly and messed with the GPA on his cell phone.

"I'm fine."

"No you aren't. Let me drive. I don't want you to fall asleep at the wheel."

"I won't fall asleep at the wheel." He argued. I almost believed him but then his head swayed. He jerked himself awake fast enough but it still wasn't safe.

"Jake. Pull over."

"No! I'm not pulling over! I'm fine! I can drive the fucking car and I can do it without causing anyone in here to get hurt! I can protect my family, I'm not an imbecile! So just shut up!"

His words felt like ice water and I couldn't speak. He immediately regretted his words. He ran a hand over his face and through his hair.

"Jesus Christ, Miley. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." And he stopped there because, really, what else could he do but apologize? I find it almost ironically hilarious that we have so many variations for words like "sad" when we should have more for "sorry". Because it's the only way to apologize, it gets used so much its caliber wears off.

I stayed silent because I knew the words hidden in my voice box were shaky. I didn't want to fight or make him upset. I would rather take a bullet to the head right now than have that happen. It's the very last thing I needed. I already felt like I didn't even deserve to be sitting next to him, much less receive his heart. And having him yell at me didn't lessen those feelings.

It was silent the rest of the way. I stayed silent as I read the sign that declared we were entering Nevada. I stayed silent when we pulled into a small town called Laughlin, Nevada. I stayed silent as Jake explained an old TV show that used to be based and filmed here. I stayed silent as we drove around looking for a hotel. I stayed silent as we parked. I spoke when Cole was getting his bag out of the back.

"I love you," I whispered to Jake. I watched his smile and his green eyes get just a little brighter. I ignored the burning in my eyes and nose. "But I don't love this."

He held my hand.

"Don't love what?" He asked.

I sniffed and blinked.

"I don't like feeling like I don't have any choices."

I watched Cole rummage through his suitcase in the trunk through the rearview mirror. Jake's shoulders slacked as the weight of the world settled down for a long snooze. He lifted his shoulders up as if to shrug but I knew he was trying to get the pressure off. No use shaking it off, I thought, it doesn't go anywhere.

"You have plenty of choices. You could choose to go back to California. You choose to get out of this car and just walk away. You could choose to sleep out here and not go in the hotel. You could choose to leave me." He tried to be the voice of reason but it didn't work. Because after all, the voice of reason has to be calm and reasonable and he fit none of those criteria's.

"I have no _good_ choices." I rephrased, my voice heavy with sadness I was determined not to let free.

He slowly extended his arms so I knew he was going to touch me. He wrapped his arms around me lightly. His heart was beating fast. I placed my hand on it and thought of my dream. And for a moment it seemed almost like the perfect way to die.

"I know, baby. I know. And I'm so sorry." There it was again. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry too, Jake. Me too.

My fingers stroked his chest, right above his heart, lightly.

"You would be so much better," I whispered into the dark, "without me."

A spark of panic, a wave of thoughts.

"_Can I go forward when my heart is here?" _He quoted, using Romeo's word instead of his own. I suppose he thought he couldn't say it better himself, that Romeo would get through to me better. I hated to remind him of the way they turned out.

"Your heart is _here._" I argued, pressing down over his heart.

"No. My heart is here." He gestured at mine, "You have my heart."

I turned my head so he couldn't see the affect of his words.

"Don't say that."

The words were way too loud.

There was a pregnant pause that was just going to bring despair. Funny how things of that pause's nature bring that particular feeling when everything is said and done.

"But why?" He asked, quoting my dream-self word for word.

And I leaned my head down and kissed his neck, because now was not the time to roll the dice and break a pattern. Even if we were near Las Vegas.

Cole knocked on the window. The red and neon lights of casino's winked at me, appreciating the complete circle. I hurt.

"Because I love you."

* * *

I turned twenty-one in a shitty hospital located in western Michigan.

"So how does it feel to be a woman?" Alana had asked me. I'd frowned and considered this as I watched Jake pace nervously around the small waiting room.

"Depressing. Because now I have no idea what the hell I was before today."

I felt like that again, as I watched Jake try to get rooms from the lobbyist.

I felt like my mind was telling me how I should feel and what I should be when all I knew how to be was who I was. Something terrible had happened. And it made me feel like a new person. When I looked in a mirror I didn't recognize myself. But being here, in this new place, made me feel a little better. I could breathe easier; I could smile without so much pain. Once again, Jake was right when it came to knowing the cards of my heart.

He argued softly with the woman and I wanted to laugh at the way she was gaping at him. I tried to remember a time when I'd been starstruck by him and I couldn't put my finger on one. But I could remember plenty of times I'd been mesmerized by him.

I turned on the couch to see what Cole was doing. He was writing a text message and looked completely relaxed. I wished for a moment I could be fourteen. How nice it would be to be so innocent and carefree. I smiled as I thought about the relationship Jake and I had when we were fourteen. It was so new and so cute and so simple. He was my first love and my first kiss...practically my first everything. And he'd be my last.

Jake come over and kneeled in front of me. I felt like a little child. His eyes were like summer grass and I thought about how children have no control over anything. We say it's for their safety but maybe it's for our wellbeing of mind. We even lock them in cars with the child locks…

"They are completely booked. She said they have one empty room but it's reserved for a couple that's coming in tomorrow morning at seven AM. She said we can rent that room as long as we're out by six. Do you want to look for another hotel or just stay here?"

The shadows underneath his eyes and his yawn made up my mind.

"Stay here. We need to get out on the road early anyway."

He asked Cole for his opinion. He agreed with me.

It's funny how a change of setting can change your outlook on everything.

* * *

The room was a typical hotel room.

It had two queen beds that were chained to the wall, an armchair, a small bathroom, a small table with two chairs, two nightstands, and an air-conditioning unit against the window. The walls were beige and the carpet a weird red and gold pattern. This room was on the smoking floor and with every breath I drew in I felt as if I were breathing in lung cancer.

Jake set the bags he was holding on the bed closest to the door. We'd only taken in things we'd need for the night. I hugged my tote to my chest and couldn't explain why I suddenly felt so small. Cole yawned to my right and took lethargic steps to the bed nearest the window. There were bars on it. That made me feel better.

He pulled out his iPod and cellphone and climbed underneath the covers, clothed and all. I could hear his music from where I was standing it was so loud. The click of the buttons on his cell phone as he texted was nerve-wracking. This was going to be a long night.

I sat down on the end of the bed. The mattress was creaky and hard. But it was better than a car, and for that I was thankful. I heard the water running in the bathroom as Jake brushed his teeth and I vaguely wondered what toothpaste he used. I couldn't remember what he had packed. Our bathroom at home looked like the personal hygiene section of a supermarket, so there was no way he packed them all.

I still wasn't very tired but I couldn't think of what else to do but sleep. I glanced over at my son and wondered who he was texting, what he was listening to, who he was. I stood up and moved to the edge of his bed. He looked up at me and ripped the earphones out of his ears. He set his cell phone down on the mattress, face down.

The words came out easily:

"Are you sleepy?"

He shrugged.

"Not really. But there's not much else to do."

I thought about the five-year-old him, begging Jake and I to play Clue.

"Want to play a board game?" I felt awkward asking him this, almost as if I didn't deserve to be taking the initiative to spend time with him after all the years I pushed him away.

He looked at me like I was insane. Which I was.

"We don't have a board game."

I felt stupid. Of course we didn't. We only brought necessary things. Right now Clue or Life seemed necessary but under normal circumstances it wouldn't.

"Oh. Right. Well…let's make one!"

I stood up and ran over to the bed. I grabbed my purse and dumped it out on the bed, blindly searching for two pens and small notebook. When I located what I was looking for I sat down at the small table and turned the lamp beside it on. I wrote my name and Cole's in a T-chart and then tore that piece of paper off. Cole sat down across me, now interested in whatever the hell I was doing. I placed that piece of paper in the middle of the table and tore off two blank pieces of paper. I handed Cole one and placed the other in front of me. He smiled and it was possibly the best thing I've seen all month.

"You look like you've just had an epiphany." He laughed. I smiled at my own expense and worked out the details of this game in my mind.

"You know that game Pictionary?"

Cole nodded. I continued.

"Well, this is kind of like this, except instead of getting a word to draw and example from, we'll each say a word and then you draw the word that first comes to mind when you think of the word the person tells you. Then we have to guess what the word was. Get it?"

I could tell by the word 'drawing' I had his attention. He nodded eagerly now, and I flashbacked to the way he used to get to cutely competitive when we all played Monopoly.

"You want to go first or do you want me to?" I asked, grasping my pen in one hand and pushing his toward him with the other. He took the pen with his left, (He was ambidextrous. Jake and I weren't sure where he got that from, because we were both right handed.) and hovered it over the paper.

"You can go first."

I scrambled my mind for a word. I automatically thought of "rain" and decided to go with that because weather is a very benign topic.

"Rain."

He paused for two seconds before the pen touched the paper. I didn't watch the drawing, only his expressions. When he was concentrated I could see Jake's facial expressions shining. Almost as if he knew I was thinking about him, he came up beside me.

I glanced away from Cole and toward Jake. He had a smile on his face but I could tell something wasn't right.

"Are you feeling okay?" I asked him. Cole kept drawing.

Jake nodded quickly. He had an unsteady air about him, as if he wanted to be somewhere but didn't know whether he should go there or not. I studied his face a little more and noticed little things like the fine lines between his furrowed eyebrows and the way his eyes were winced slightly.

I reached up and placed my palm on his forehead. He quickly, gently pulled my hand off his head. But not before I felt the hot temperature.

"I'm okay." He tried to reassure me. I frowned. He was only denying he felt bad because he felt guilty about being sick when he felt that I had much bigger problems.

"No you are not."

I stood up from my chair and told Cole I'd be right back. He nodded, still immersed in his picture. I knew mine would be terrible in comparison. I grabbed Jake's hand and pulled him with me into the bathroom. He was so sleepy that his head could barely stay up. As I stroked his hair and he rested his head on my shoulder I realized something: I liked taking care of people. It made me feel much better.

He fought with himself for a moment but finally relaxed, his breath cool against my neck. I rubbed his back, feeling terrible for him.

"What hurts?" I asked.

He sighed deeply.

"Everything. But my head in particular."

I hoped he wasn't coming down with the flu. That would be absolutely horrendous.

"Did you take some Tylenol?"

He nodded against my shoulder. I stroked his hair for a minute before stepping away from him.

"You need to lay down," I directed. He was about to argue with me, but knew it was probably pointless. He walked back out into the hotel room and I heard the bed creak as he lay down. I grabbed one of the white washcloths off the metal rack and turned the faucet on. It took a few minutes for it to get warm, but once it did I soaked the washcloth in it. I wrung it out some and then walked back into the room. Jake was lying on his back on the bed and I sat beside him and placed it on his forehead.

There were so many words and none at the same time. Of all the things I needed to say to him I couldn't pick one that was right to say.

"Sleep well." That sentence and a kiss on the side of his mouth seemed the best thing to say and do. I knew if he needed me he wouldn't get me so there was no point in telling him that.

He thanked me and kissed my wrist, the only part of me he could reach without picking his head up. It was hard to pull myself away from him. Even though we were in the same room I felt so far from him.

He fell into sleep and I stood up. I turned the air off because he was probably freezing and then I took my seat in front of Cole. He pushed his picture forward wordlessly.

The castle and crowds brought a smile to my mouth. I touched the thin paper and looked up at him.

"The Magic Kingdom at Disney World. When you were four we all went to Disney World and it rained all five days non-stop. I didn't know you remembered that."

He smiled, "I mostly remember Dad whining about the rain and humidity the whole time. And then I remember how we couldn't go to the Animal Kingdom because the storms."

"That was very unfortunate. We need to go back to make up for that sucky trip."

He nodded in agreement.

"Do I give you the same word or do I pick another?"

My mind realized quickly what the word rain made me think of and I panicked.

"Another. Just pick one randomly."

He thought for a few seconds.

"Finger paint."

Well he was random. I automatically pictured his hand prints all over the living room wall. When he was little, Oliver brought him and Emily some finger paint and left them in my living room to play with it. I was at the studio and Jake was in his office on the phone when it happened. Oliver was supposed to be watching them but of course he decided to go into the kitchen and eat, thinking they'd be good with finger paint. Long story short, I came home to new decorating.

I drew the wall and handprints, not even bothering to try and make them good. Even my best piece of work would look like chicken scratch next to Cole's sketch. I finished quickly and pushed it over to him. He eyed it for a few minutes.

"Handprints on the wall," He looked up at me, "Who's handprints?"

I realized then I hadn't been keeping score and I quickly gave each of us a tally.

"Yours and Emily's. When you were little Oliver decided to let you finger paint and then disappeared into the kitchen instead of watching you guys. And then I came home to a newly painted living room!"

He laughed.

"Oliver would do that."

I nodded. "Oliver's always been that way, though. But he's one of those people you just can't help but love. Emily takes after him a lot, except she has a lot more common sense. Some of the things she says reminds me of Oliver when he was fourteen."

He opened his mouth to say something and then hesitated. His statement fell out of his mouth and landed on the table like an itch that had been harassing his mind all his life.

"Why did Emily's mom leave her and Oliver? If she didn't want a baby why did she have her?"

It wasn't what I expected him to ask at all. I kept myself composed. I pulled my legs up to my chest and rested my chin on my knees.

"Well…" I contemplated how to answer this. "Parents don't always know they aren't cut out to raise a child until they have them. Lydia—Emily's mother—thought she'd be a great mother to Emily. She loved Emily then and I'm sure she still does. But she just wasn't ready. Once she had Emily she knew she couldn't do it, I guess. But Oliver on the other hand, he was ready for her. Oliver loved her so much. Maybe that was something that kept Lydia from having an abortion. Oliver probably would have killed her. But honestly—and don't tell anyone I said this—I think Emily is better off without Lydia. She's…uhh...not exactly the best role model for a teenage girl."

He seemed bothered by something I said. He shifted in his seat and pulled at the collar of his shirt.

"But…even if Oliver had wanted to keep Emily…Lydia still could have…gotten rid…of her, right?"

I tried to figure out what was making him act so weird. And with a blast of understanding I got it. He was feeling guilty that he didn't stop Lila from getting an abortion. His excuse to make himself feel better must have been that he couldn't control what she did and now that I said that he felt bad.

I handed him a gift:

"Yes. What Lydia did with her body was solely up to her. Oliver had no say." That wasn't the truth; Oliver did have a say. But how could I tell my son that? How could I make him feel even more worse about all this? Maybe he did deserve to feel worse but I couldn't be the one to make him feel that way.

The game was seemingly forgotten as he asked me another question.

"And you and dad…you guys were ready for me?"

I smiled because this is the most we'd talked in a while and it was probably the best thing that had happened to me in a long time.

"Not at all. I was just barely seventeen. We'd just escaped a murderer. You definitely didn't come at a very convenient time. Not to mention the odds of me even getting pregnant were a million to one." I decided not to go any further into that.

"But you kept me."

My smile stayed put on my face as I leaned across the table and pushed his hair out of his face. It was the most motherly thing I'd done in a while and I liked it.

"Yes. I did. Because your dad was there for me, and we had friends and family there for us. Because we knew we'd be able to have a house to raise you in, food to feed you, clothes to clothe you in. Because giving you up never really was an option. I said something about adoption and you should have seen the way Jake blew up. I thought he would have killed me if it wasn't for the fact that killing me would have resulted in your death."

Cole didn't speak but I could hear the words in the air: _If you wanted me so much, and you gave up so much for me, why did you forget about me?_

My mouth had a mind of its own. My mind.

"I don't think I was ready to be a mother. Look how much I screwed up with you. But if I wouldn't have had you then I never would have had you at all. It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all."

He picked up the pen and started doodling on the back of Magic Kingdom.

"You didn't lose. I don't hate you."

For a moment, after the warmth of his words spread, I realized I felt whole. I'd spent so long broken that whole felt abnormal.

"And I love you, but you already know that. But I lost your trust. I…let you down."

I could tell he felt awkward. It was hard for any teenage boy to show emotion, much less someone as guarded as Cole.

"It's alright. I understand." He said quickly. He just wanted to get off this line of conversation.

I smiled and decided to put the teenager out of his misery.

"Candy."

He drew and I stared at the dark street from outside the window. I wanted to shut the curtains but at the same time I didn't. I felt better knowing I knew what was outside instead of having to worry about what might be out there.

He pushed the paper forward. Kids in all kinds of crazy costumes were walking down a suburb.

"Halloween. Is that kid dressed like a pair of scissors?" I peered closer to the kid behind a ghost.

"Yes."

I laughed good-naturedly, "That'll win the jackpot."

"Definitely. Flower."

It took me a few seconds to realize 'flower' was the word he was giving me. Automatically I thought of 'garden'. That was fairly easy to draw. I didn't put effort into it as I sketched it out. He guessed it correctly.

The game went on for about three more hours. We were trying to get it out of the tie it was in but finally we just gave up out of exhaustion and called it a tie.

It was midnight before I crawled into the bed, knowing I'd fall dead asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. The bed was probably the most uncomfortable thing I'd ever slept on in my life, and that includes a concrete floor. I considered bringing a pillow down to the floor and sleeping there, but I was hesitant about what was in that carpet. You never know, and frankly, I didn't want to.

I placed a hand against Jake's back. The rise and fall of his breathing reassured me enough to allow myself to go to sleep.

* * *

My dreams were salty like tears and sweat and struggling.

When I finally detached myself from them, I realized the dream hadn't stopped because it was my reality. I lay still for what seemed like hours, trying to figure out what was making the strange noise, only to realize I was crying. I couldn't seem to make myself stop. The tears welled and dripped from my eyelashes from their own accord. The skin underneath my puffy eyes was sore and irritated by the burning salt. My slice was worse; the tears got beneath the bandage and burned the open wound. I was almost positive that the salt had seeped into my skin and burned my heart, too.

It was sweltering. The heat made my head swim and the sheets were plastered to my body. I peeled them off me and sat up. The sudden vertigo made me pause before climbing unsteadily to my feet. I was going to turn the air back on but the sudden, sickening feeling made me run into the bathroom instead. I watched myself as I got sick, I watched myself take my bandages off, I watched myself crumble. No big deal, nothing new.

I wanted to be alone and at the same time I didn't. The idea of just running away and being on my own was so attractive that I almost stood up. But the fact that being with people kept my mind busy held me down. How terrible it would be to just sit around in my own memories all day.

It wasn't supposed to be this way for me. I shouldn't feel so atrocious and corrupt. I know about this. I know the symptoms, the "cures", the steps. I know I know I know I know. So why doesn't it help? Because I am not above pain and I never have been.

Some moments I felt like I was going to be perfectly okay and then others I saw it, felt it, knew it was there and I thought I was being ripped apart inch by inch. It was becoming a lot like labor: the time between the contractions was getting to be the prep time instead of a grace period.

The catch-22 was this: I couldn't do this alone but I couldn't do it with anyone but myself. I'm the only one that can make this better. But I can't do it.

Jake sat down beside me, just as I knew he eventually always did. But I didn't want him for once. I wanted to be by myself but with him at the same time. I was so stuck.

He reached out to comfort me but I shook my head, the drops of liquid falling from my eyes saying all the things I could not. He lowered his arms but did not get up. He simply sat beside me as I cried.

He asked:

"What is it? Can I help? I'll give you anything you want. Just please, how can I help you?"

I didn't say:

"It's everything. And no you cannot help unless you can turn back time."

He gave me my pain medicine, let me cry it out, and that was it. What more was there to do? Eventually my tears slowed and I rested my face on my legs so I didn't have to look him in the eye and see what I had done.

"Will you tell me now?" He asked suddenly, as if he thought venting was the only thing that would help me now.

I was a musician. I worked by sound, by symphonies of melodies and harmonies. I was auditory and hearing was my main way of processing everything so I could sing it back out to the world. Jake was an actor. He worked by sight whether it being regular sight or his mind's eye. He was visual and saw to live.

See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

Together we destroyed the first two. But I could control the last.

I lifted my face and gazed into his.

"I can't hurt you, too."

"Don't worry about me," He begged, his eyes wider than usual, "If it will help you, tell me."

I turned my face away and wiped at my tears. I kept a hand covering my face.

"How could hurting you help me?"

Tragedy causes the most curious events to unfold. Looking back, I can see the event clear as day as we sat in that hotel bathroom. You probably could, too, if you knew exactly what was coming. But surprise is blind to the victim, fate does not play nicely, and life is one big circle.


	26. Vodka

**A/n: **It's the season of giving. Can you forgive me for the long wait? Tons of thanks to everyone who served as my Google and helped with this chapter: my beta Jen of course, Mari, and Lindsey. TONS of thanks to ya'll who reviewed last chapter (reaa1210, AprilRainer16, speedsONEandONLY, fictiongirl101, megomyeggo, princessofportugal, hanfan89, southern-gurl94, jesebud, BeautifulxxDisasterx, and nysunsetangel) you all are seriously amazing and if I spelled your penname wrong you have permission to slap me across the face. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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"I think I'm scared as hell. It's about time that I tell you all the things that you should know. All the things I'm too scared to show."-- Cauterize, "Taste of Tears".

* * *

**A FEW WEEKS LATER**

**NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK**

…

"How are you holding up, bud?"

My dad's soft, concerned voice sounded extremely far away. My breathing came out in ragged gasps as I tried to fight against the pain of my nausea. I was lying on the floor of the bathroom in my apartment, my cheek pressed against the cool tiles in a hopeless effort to make myself feel like sick.

"Fine." I lied weakly. I wanted to be sick more than anything. At least then the pain would go away for a small amount of time.

My dad paused long enough for me to wonder if he had hung up. My eyelids felt so heavy that they drifted shut in the silence. It wasn't like I'd ever be able to sleep with the pain, but it still felt so good to rest my eyes.

"Jake says you've been feeling very sick lately. He also says you aren't eating much," How did he keep his voice so gentle but so accusatory at once?

I curled up into a ball, trying to alleviate my pain with a new position on the hard, cold floor. I felt eyes on me. I looked up and past the open doorway. Jake was helping Cole with homework—analyzing _Hamlet_—but his eyes were on me as he spoke. His gaze was so concerned that it just made me hurt more. I wish I could escape from his pain. But if I closed the door he'd fear I'd passed out and have a complete panic attack. It was easier for him to watch my suffering. He'd given up on trying to comfort me.

"I'm fine, Dad," I tried to breathe evenly, "And I'm eating plenty. Jake overreacts."

Lying was so normal now that it was more natural than telling the truth. I didn't know if I was fine. The sickness, in its beginning stages, was just when I'd woken up. My nightmares and pain were behind it. I'd always gotten physically sick when I was emotionally sick. But it had gotten worse. Everything had gotten worse. After we'd left the hotel a few weeks ago and started back on the road, it just kept going downhill. _Everything _reminded me of it. The television, my dreams, billboards, flowers, smells, sounds, certain cars…

I couldn't escape it. And every time I was reminded of it I had violent flashbacks, violent memories. And thus the sickness occurred. Jake begged, _pleaded_, that I see a doctor. I wasn't sure how to explain to him that only death could make this better.

I didn't believe it got better in time. Impossible. Inconceivable. Time was only making it worse.

"I don't think he is this time, Miles. I'm really worried about you. Everyone is. I wish you would come home. I think being around your family would help."

No it wouldn't. Being around two other people was sometimes too much to bear. I couldn't imagine being around more.

"I need to be here," I wanted to say more but my sentence was cut off by my pain. The nausea was stronger and my head was spinning. I groaned and turned my face so my other cheek was pressing against the cool floor. Cold sweat was moistening my forehead.

_Throw up, throw up, throw up, _I chanted to myself, willing it to happen. If I didn't know Jake's reaction would be maddening, I would have taken a toothbrush and jammed it down my throat to induce the vomiting. But the thought of his response to an action like that left me cringing on the floor.

I heard Jake tell Cole to hold on, and he had crossed the small living room quickly. He crossed the threshold of the bathroom and I watched his feet as he walked toward me. He felt so stunningly superior to me as he stood above me, with me literally at his feet.

But he kneeled down quickly. His voice was pained.

"Are you okay? What can I do?"

I shook my head, too sick to answer.

"At least let me carry you to the bed," He begged.

The thought of the warm bed, so far away from a place where I could be acceptably sick, was revolting. I shook my head quickly. He gently pulled the phone away from my ear and brought up to his own. He exchanged words with my father while I wished for death. I plotted it frequently. I had come to the point where I knew I couldn't stay here anymore. But I also knew if I killed myself it'd have to be in a way that would look like I died naturally. If Jake knew I'd committed suicide he'd kill himself with guilt. Truthfully, the only thing that kept me alive was the fact that I could not figure out a way to go about doing this. Medicine was so advanced that I couldn't think of one way to feign a natural death. I'd considered making it seem like an accident, but I wasn't sure how to go about that either.

The thought of being without Jake still made me feel even sicker. But I wasn't me anymore, not really. Ever since…well, ever since I'd lost Joy I'd been losing myself slowly, piece by piece. This had just been the final breaking point. I was not me and this suffering was pointless.

I wish I knew what drugs were untraceable in the body. I could just overdose on those and drift to a peaceful sleep. One free of strange, frightening nightmares.

Or maybe I could just do this the old-fashioned way: hang myself from the ceiling fan, a dagger in the chest, a gun to the head. I could leave Jake a letter that explained everything and begged him, as my final wish, to not blame himself and to live the rest of his life happily.

So what was stopping me?

I couldn't figure it out. I had so many options planned. All I needed to do was make a surefire decision and then act on it. But for some reason I couldn't get myself to do it. It felt so selfish even though I told myself I had absolutely every single right to end this unjustified suffering. It wasn't like it'd hurt Jake that much. As I'd already said, I was already gone. I wasn't the girl he'd fallen in love with so, so many years ago. He lost me a long time ago. Cole. He'd be better off without me, truthfully. I'd been so terrible to him. Hopefully Jake could marry someone who could be the mother an amazing child like him deserved to have. I didn't deserve him in any way or form. I knew all this as sure as the pain I was in right now.

But yet, I still felt like I was taking something from the innocent. I was not vain enough to think that my lack of presence would affect anyone that greatly. The feeling was strange and unexplainable, but palpable enough to thwart my relieving actions. So I stayed. And the more I stayed, the more unhappy I was. But what else could I do?

I floundered to answer my own rhetorical question, wishing there was an answer to everything. Life would be so much easier.

As if my stomach agreed, I was suddenly violently sick. I made it to the toilet, thank goodness, not wanting to throw up all over the floor. Jake's hand was light on my back as he tried to find some way to make all this easier.

Once I'd thrown up I felt slightly better. I was exhausted beyond all other discomforts, so I worked to pull myself to my feet. Jake assisted quickly, glad to do something productive. I let him help me into the living room and I lay on the couch. He draped a blanket over me and kissed my hand. I knew he didn't trust me alone in the bedroom. His subconscious, the part that was bound to me so tightly that we were almost one, was trying to warn him about my plot. My subconscious was trying to talking me out of it, issuing those feelings of guilt.

I closed my eyes and listened to Jake and Cole work to analyze _Hamlet. _It was an almost happy scene to witness and I thought to myself that if I died right now I would die happy.

My consciousness dipped and emerged itself into the frightening, strange dreams that would harass me with no end.

* * *

I woke up at the crack of dawn. In my dream my stomach was being stabbed with a burning knife, in reality I was about to be sick. I took deep breaths and tried to think of good things. If I got myself less upset the nausea should go away. I thought of the past. No use thinking of the future unless I wanted to be sick.

I relaxed when the nausea went away. If I could just learn to do that every time I woke up from a nightmare Jake wouldn't have to worry so much. My sound health only lasted one more hour. As soon as Jake started cooking breakfast, and the smell of eggs filled the air, I sprinted into the bathroom. I shut the door and tried to make it seem like I was just using the restroom. Luckily, I threw up quickly. I sat still in front of the toilet for a minute, to make sure I didn't pass out when I stood up, and then I quickly flushed it. I ran the water, taking a long time to wash my hands. I drank from the faucet and gulped large gusts of air. I brushed my teeth as inconspicuously as I could. Then for the next hour and a half I showered, working my best to scrub off my skin. When I shut off the water my skin was bright pink and hurt to the touch. I smelled strongly of soap. I dressed, ignoring the spots where my stitches had been taken out.

I unlocked the door and opened it. A draft of cool air made me shiver. Jake smiled and wished me a good morning. I repeated the greeting, but didn't smile because I could only push myself so much.

I sat back down on the couch. The sun was dim and veiled as it shined lightly through the glass French doors that led out to a balcony. The snow made everything look mystical. It coated the banister, the chairs, the table, and the ground underneath the balcony. A group of small children stood with their parents as they waited for the bus. A father who was laughing loudly was gently braiding his daughter's long angel-blond hair. Her mother pulled her small gloves on her hands. I looked away.

I felt Jake's prodding gaze on me. I stood up and walked over to the counter. I placed a piece of bread in the toaster. He looked away, satisfied. I leaned against the counter. My constant fatigue made the idea of standing up for very long unpleasant. He had ruined me, physically and mentally. Just what he wanted. I rubbed my nose as it started burning. I pushed my hair behind my shoulders. I blinked. No time to cry.

The toast popped up with a noise that made me jump. Cole and Jake looked up from the table in alarm. I laughed weakly, trying to write my reaction off as silly.

I pulled it out of the toaster. I carried it on a napkin over to the table and sat down. Jake pushed some butter toward me.

I shook my head in refusal. I tore the bread into pieces with my hands. I felt his gaze on me and I shied away from it. Cole saved me by starting a conversation with his father. I listened to their soft voices and ate the toast piece by piece. Once it was gone I laid my head on the table. My arms and t-shirt smelled like the soap I'd used. I liked the smell.

I didn't reemerge until Jake called my name softly. I pulled my head up. Cole had left. I heard the TV from his bedroom. He'd have to start his lessons soon.

"Hmmm?"

Jake shifted, visibly uncomfortable. He ran his hand through his hair five times before answering.

"I…I got you a doctor's appointment for today."

He watched nervously as I froze. A prickly feeling traveled up my arm and it was a while before I realized it had fallen asleep in my stunned position. I moved it so it was hanging by my side. He seemed relieved by that small movement.

"It's just going to make it worse," my voice was shaky. I couldn't go to a shrink's office and tell him how I felt. I couldn't relive this.

He placed his elbows on the table and rested his forehead in his upturned palms.

"Maybe. But…what else is there to do? I don't know what else to do."

He sounded so small that my heart ached.

"I can't go, Jake. Think of what happened last time…he's the reason that…" _that all our babies die. _I couldn't finish my sentence.

Jake seemed confused. Minutes past before he finally spoke.

"Oh. No, Miley, I don't mean a psychiatrist. I mean a medical doctor."

I pushed myself back from him in horror. He seemed startled by my sudden action.

"I'm not going."

"Please," He begged me. I avoided his eyes, ducking my head.

"It wasn't your place to do that." I whispered.

"Yes it was," he argued softly, "I'm your husband. Through sickness and through health, remember? It's been my place for so long and I haven't done anything to help you. No more. You're going to get better."

"I don't want to go." I sniffed.

He seemed to be struggling with himself.

"I don't care," he said sharply, "you have to go. Please. If not for yourself for me. Please, Miley. You don't know how much it hurts to watch you like this."

And I watched in horror as tears sparkled in his eyes. I let out a gust of air and it was then I knew I was going.

"I want to go alone." I whispered. He seemed surprised at my easy surrender. He nodded in agreement.

"It's in an hour. I'll drive you."

As he walked away, I wondered what extreme lengths he'd go to if he knew what I was planning to do.

* * *

The cold wind slapped me across the face.

I tore out of the doctor's office, the wind whipping my shirt against my skin. My ragged sobs made it hard to breathe and my chest burned. I saw Jake throw open his car door and walk over to open the passenger's. My heart seemed to collapse and I ran right past him, past the car, past the only thing I had left. He might of called my name, or maybe it was a whisper of something in my past. The wind was so loud in my ears that I couldn't hear anything. The fresh snow crunched underneath my boots as I ran through the grass and I realized it'd left my jacket in the examining room. I shivered convulsively from the cold and my disturbance. I'd never felt so disgusting. My new knowledge had me vomiting in the paper-white snow. I heard Jake running behind me to catch up. My numb legs carried me farther, my hot tears falling in the snow. The boot fell deeper and deeper into the snow as I ran into a drift. I felt some slide up my pants leg and freeze my calf. I pulled my leg out of the snow and continued pushing my way away from the one person I needed.

My toes felt numb and the cold air pierced my lungs like a dagger as I gasped for air. I kept running and falling until Jake's voice was just a memory. I finally collapsed on a snowy bench in exhaustion. The snow was freezing against my leg but I couldn't move. I wasn't entirely sure where I was. I knew I was somewhere in the city but I wasn't near our apartment. I watched the yellow taxies and cars battle in the traffic and bundled up tourists and residents push through throngs of people on the sidewalks. I wiped at my eyes and realized suddenly that I did know where I was. Snow-blanketed Central Park shined under the sun. I watched the beautiful horses pull people in carriages and sidewalk artists paint portraits.

I knew how to get home from here, and I wished I didn't. The doctor's voice rang in my head and I resisted the urge to be sick again. How could this happen to me? I answered myself. The same way everything else had.

My legs understood my decision before my conscious mind did. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. I didn't pay attention to all the missed calls I'd had. I got onto the internet and Googled what I was looking for. I got the address and put my cell phone back in my pocket.

My head was spinning as I stopped a taxi.

"Do you take credit cards?"

He looked at me and gaped before recovering himself. He nodded and jabbed a finger at the machine. I slid into the smelly cab and slammed the door shut.

"Where to?" His voice was heavily accented. I recited the address. He gave me a withering look before stomping on the gas pedal.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried the whole way there. The skin underneath my eyes was raw and sore by the time he announced our arrival. I pulled the credit card from my pocket that'd I'd used to pay for the doctor's visit, and handed it to him.

Once I'd paid and the taxi had driven off, I found myself standing at the mouth of the building. I didn't read the building's title, I didn't breathe. I just pushed myself into the waiting room. This had to be over. This couldn't happen. I couldn't—wouldn't—do this.

The woman at the front desk asked me questions in a soft voice. I answered each as best I could. She asked my name as if she didn't know who I was. I gave a false name even though that wouldn't hide my identity at all.

"You can go have a seat. We'll call you back when it's your turn."

I stumbled back and collapsed into a hard plastic chair. Outdated magazines littered the table. There was only one other woman in the room. She was old. The reason she was here was easy to tell. If she wasn't here she would die. I tried to convince myself I was here for the same reason. I could not carry Luke's baby.

I buried my face in my hands. My life seemed to be crumbling away. I didn't even know who I was anymore.

They called me and the old woman back at the same time. They led her into a room to the right but led me down a long hall. We stopped in front of a counseling room. The nurse told me to have a seat until the doctor arrived.

I sat nervously in the chair. I shuddered and couldn't seem to stop the tremors even though it was very warm. I was instinctively shying away from this environment.

The doctor came in. She asked me why I was here, explained the procedure, and told me a day I could come get it done. I broke down and begged her to do it now, to help me now. She pushed pamphlets into my hands and refused, telling me to go home and talk it over with my husband and if I still wanted to do it I was marked down for next Monday at seven. We sat in silence as I cried.

"Miley," she whispered quietly, "What are you doing here? You don't want to be here. It couldn't be plainer if you screamed it at me."

I _wanted _to scream at her. I wanted to tell her she had no idea what I wanted and that she should just leave me the hell alone. But she was right and it killed me. I had every right to kill the child of the person who had single-handedly ruined my life. But that didn't stop be from feeling like I'd walked into a haunted catacomb. The one thing I wanted more than anything else was to run away from it.

She stared at my face for a second.

"Monday," She reminded me softly. She opened the door, motioning for me to leave. It took me a minute to pull myself from the seat and shuffle out of the room.

I was a fool to think they'd be able to get me in without an appointment. I walked outside in the cold air. The sun was going down. I had no idea where to go. I didn't want to go home and be bombarded with questions but I didn't want to sleep on the street. After five minutes of deliberating I called a taxi and told them my address.

I leaned my head against the window most the ride and thought about the future. It was like thinking about the most unpleasant thing in the world. It was a catch-22: if I had an abortion, would I ever be able to live with myself? But if I didn't, how could I ever live with his child?

It occurred to me that both those rhetorical questions involved me living.

He pulled up onto the street outside the apartment. I paid again, and the doorman led me into the warm, bright lobby. Jake jumped up from an armchair when he saw me and he quickly rushed over. I ignored his questions and slowly walked up the stairs. As soon as we were halfway up I'd wished I'd taken the elevator. Less time for him to harass me with inquiries.

Suddenly, as we passed the second floor, his hands gripped my shoulders and he backed me against the wall.

"MILEY!" He thundered, "God _DAMMIT. _Tell me what's going on!"

My heart thumped madly in my chest. I stared at him with wide eyes. After a tense moment he removed his hands and backed away. His head sagged in what I recognized as defeat. I followed him to our apartment slowly.

Cole smiled at me when I walked in. There was a tense moment before he hugged me suddenly. I hugged back, my heart mending back ever so slowly. I realized how hard and unfair this was to him. I was never emotionally stable enough to be his mother.

I walked into the bedroom and shut the door and for once Jake didn't stop me. I curled up under the covers and cried. Sometime during the night it began to snow again. The wind was molesting the building relentlessly. I pulled my head up from the bed long enough to see the snow falling from the sky. The picture would have been magical if I didn't feel so shitty.

Sometime in the night the light flickered on and Jake didn't hesitate at all. He shut the door and sat at beside me. He pulled the covers back. He stared at me with an expression I couldn't identify. I watched silently as he unscrewed the vodka top. He crossed his legs and poured two shot glasses full of it. The clear liquid could have been water if it didn't smell so strong.

His eyes were clouded and I could not read his intentions and he pressed the small glass into my hand.

"Have a drink with me?"

His voice was so soft. I robotically nodded. He brought the glass to his lips, his eyes on me. He drank and didn't even wince. I pressed the cool, heavy glass to my own lips and tipped it back. The alcohol burned so badly my eyes watered. It tasted like rubbing alcohol and with one gulp my head felt lighter. I hadn't realized how large the gulp had been until he was filling my glass again. In the back of my mind I thought of fetal alcohol syndrome but found myself thinking that he only deserved that much. I didn't want any part of him inside me, not ever again. I gulped more of the harsh alcohol. It felt like it was burning me from the inside out. All the better.

I drank five shots before he screwed the top back on and pushed it away.

"No," I protested, "I'm not done."

I reached for it but couldn't get my fingers to grab it. He softly grabbed my wrist and restrained my hands.

"You've had plenty."

I considered arguing with him but the strangest feeling of peacefulness surrounded me. I grasped his hands with mine and feebly pulled on his arm. He complied and let me pull him down beside me. My heart seemed lodged in my throat as I examined his hands. They were so pretty.

He seemed interested in my expression.

"What is it?"

"Your hands are so pretty," I gushed. I saw his lip twitch but he made an effort to not smile. He just sighed and pulled me back so I was lying beside him. He was so warm, so nice. I snuggled against his side.

"Miley," His voice was louder than normal. I smiled at him. He was so handsome.

"Hmmm?"

He gently pulled his pretty hands out of mine and placed one on top of my head. He stroked my hair and I looked up at him in confusion.

"Would you please tell me what made you so sad today?"

His words brought back vivid and painful memories. I whimpered and shook my head.

"If you tell me I can help," he promised in a soothing voice, "I can make it all better."

And I suddenly knew he was right. He always took care of me.

I cried in earnest as I thought about the story.

"Jake…the doctor told me…"

His hands stroked my cheeks and he kissed my forehead.

"It's okay," his voice was so calming, "It's fine. Just tell me. I promise to make it all better. You'll never be unhappy again."

I nodded against his arm.

"You smell good," I muttered.

"Thank you. Now what happened?"

I paused. I didn't feel very good about telling him. But he could make it go away.

"I'm pregnant."

He froze.

"What?"

I flinched away from his voice. It was so mean. I shook underneath his glare.

He drew back from me.

"You're…pregnant…and you…drank…alcohol?" He seemed to me having a hard time speaking.

I started crying again. He didn't understand.

"You're the one that g-gave it to me." I argued.

"I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE PREGNANT! I NEVER WOULD HAVE IF I WOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT!"

He was being so harsh. He was hurting my feelings. I sobbed.

"I'm sorry," I blubbered, "But I don't care!" I felt sudden anger overcome me, "I don't care at all!! Why should I care?? Why should I protect his baby? All he did was hurt me. He doesn't care for me so why should I care for his baby?"

Jake had frozen.

"Oh. You didn't know it was that bastard's. You thought it was yours. I'd never hurt our baby, Jake." I sniffed and wiped my eyes, "But I don't love his baby."

It was quiet for longer than I liked.

"What exactly happened, Miley? What happened that day? Tell me."

I pressed my face into his arm.

"I don't want to, Jake. Please don't make me. I don't want to think about it."

He stroked my hair.

"All you have to do it tell me now and you won't ever have to think about it ever again."

I looked up at him.

"Do you promise?"

He hesitated.

"Yes."

He wrapped his arm around me and I told him the story with my face hidden. When I was done he looked green.

I cried heavier.

"I don't want to have his baby, Jake. Please don't make me. I don't want it. I don't want to!" I was hysterical, "Please I don't want to. I don't want him inside of me. I don't…I don't want to have to do that. I don't want that. You understand? I don't. Please."

He gripped me tighter to him, his face white as bone.

"Never," He promised. "You don't have to have his baby. Of course not." He hesitated. "Do you know for sure it's his though?"

I rubbed my nose against my sleeve.

"Yes. I do."

He didn't look happy about that.

"How?"

I grabbed his hands again and cradled them to my face.

"Because," I whispered simply to the pretty hands, "If it was your baby I would want it. I wouldn't feel so sick and yucky inside. I'd be happy. Do you know something, Jake?"

His voice sounded sad.

"What?"

"I used to dream all the time that we could have another child. But I don't think I want one anymore."

"Why?"

"Because. Because now, after this, I'd never feel right. I was forced to make a baby with Luke and I don't think I have to the right to make a baby with you. You're too nice, too good, too perfect to be with someone as horrible and gross as me. But that's okay."

"What?" He yelped.

I looked questionably at him.

"Did you say…is he…are you…_Luke?_!"

"Yes." I told him about seeing him outside the house before we left and the things the man said in the van. I was crying again by the time I was done and he was speechless.

"I…but…how?"

"I don't know. I don't know."

His hands were shaking and he breathed deeply.

"You're angry." I frowned and sweetly touched the wrinkles the worry made on his forehead.

"I want to torture him." He admitted.

I shifted so I could stare him in the eyes.

"Will you please help me first?"

He pulled me back into his arms.

"Of course I will, of course. I love you."

"I love you too. You know something, Jake?" I repeated the question.

"No, what?"

"I want to kill myself."

He tightened his arms.

"No you don't."

I nodded. "Oh yes I do. I'm sad all the time, Jake. I'm never happy anymore. I feel kind of happy now though. But so much bad stuff is happening and I don't like it at all."

"Don't go, Miley." His voice was pleading. "Don't leave. Wouldn't you miss me? I'd miss you."

I sniffed.

"Of course I'd miss you. I love you. But I never get to be with you anymore because I'm so sad all the time." I paused. "I shouldn't have told you that."

"Yes you should have," he assured me.

The silence wore on and I was getting really sleepy.

"I'm sleepy." I whispered.

"Then go to sleep, honey. But I have one more question."

"Okay." I couldn't keep my eyelids open.

"What do you plan on doing about the baby?"

"I don't want it."

His voice sounded far away.

"Adoption?"

"No. I can't carry it. I can't give a demon away to curse other people."

"Oh. I understand. Well don't worry. We'll get rid of it."

My mind was so far away.

"Jake?"

"Hmm?"

"I wish there were more boys like you in the world."

His hand ceased stroking my hair and before I passed out I could have sworn I'd heard him whisper 'No you don't'.

But of course I did. He was going to take care of me. He was going to make it all better. I felt the strangest flutter in my stomach. My heart twisted and I struggled to pull myself away from sleep. I knew that touch, but it wouldn't make sense with how far along I was. It was so light it could have been a dream.

Or maybe even a nightmare.


	27. Time

**A/n: **Sorry for the wait! Thank you all SO much for the reviews! I tried to update as soon as possible. I hope everyone had/is having a very spectacular Christmashannakwanzica (credit to that ingenious word goes to AndImtheQueenofSheba). (THANK YOU JEN AND LANI AND LINDSEY AND ALYSSA AND MEGAN AND ANDRE AND MARI AND WHOEVER ELSE PICKED A NUMBER/HELPED ME)

* * *

**"For a time, though you share the same bed, **

**There are only two ends to this dance. **

**You can flee with your wounds just in time,  
**

**Or lie there as he feeds, **

**Watching yourself ripped to shreds **

**And laughing as you bleed." -- Rachael Yamagata, "Elephants". **

The minute I woke up I wished I hadn't.

My head throbbed with pain that radiated down my shoulders and my throat felt like sand paper. I jerked upward and regretted it immediately. My head spun and I had to sit still for a few moments until I could see straight. I had thought because I had woken up many times in the middle of the night and threw up I'd be somewhat detoxified, however, I still felt the full blown attacks of a hangover.

I heard the soft sound of a glass cup being set down on the nightstand. I opened my eyes and turned my head. Jake shamefully avoided my gaze, choosing instead to inspect the carpet. He jerked his head to the glass of water. I counted my heartbeats. One, two, three…I could feel something happening…four, five, six….

"Miley…I…"

Seven, eight, nine…

"I…what else could I do?"

I turned my head away from him. Fury was coursing through my body along with a more potent emotion. Betrayal. I breathed in slowly and tried not to cry or scream. He was asking himself the wrong rhetorical question. It wasn't 'what else could I do?' it was 'how could I?'. It is a question that truly does not have an answer.

"Miley…"

I turned to meet his gaze, betrayal overcoming every other emotion inside of me.

"You were supposed to be on my side."

The words came out quieter than I wanted them to. I wanted to scream them, to punch him, to hit him, to let him know just how badly he hurt me when he took away my free will just like every other man.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes pleading, his voice begging.

"I am. I always am. _I_ _love you. _But I had to know. I couldn't help you if I didn't know. You wouldn't have told me and I know it." His words came out in a rush as if they were rehearsed. I reminded myself that he was an actor, something I never used to have to worry about.

I fought to keep my tears away from the surface.

"So you thought drugging me and stealing the information from me was a better way to go?" My voice broke on the end and I ducked my head so he couldn't see my face.

"Was there another way?"

I couldn't keep the disbelief out of my voice. I lifted my head and stared him angrily in the face, "Yes! You could have not taken away my ability to choose, to control my own actions."

He flinched back as if I'd slapped him.

"You took the drink," He reminded me softly, "You drank it. I didn't force you to."

Blood rushed to my face making my headache ache worse and my anger skyrocket.

"Because I never, ever thought you would do this to me! I never thought you'd betray me like this! I never thought you were capable of it! And I'm starting to wonder if you wouldn't have held me down and forced to me drink it if I had refused." He started to say something but I cut him off, "I'm through talking to you. Just leave me alone."

I pushed the covers back and stood up from the bed. I started to walk toward the door but his hand, grasping around my wrist, stopped me. I fought with myself as I considered punching him in the jaw.

"Don't push me away more than you already are." His tone made a shudder cascade down my spine. Serious, intense. Truthful.

I thought about his face last night and I squared my shoulders.

"I'm not pushing you away. I'm walking away." I yanked at my hand, intent on making an exit, but I couldn't fight with his grip. He suddenly was as angry as I was. He pulled harder on my wrist until I complied with his wishes and began walking in the direction he pulled. He turned us so I was against the wall and he was directly in front of me, his gaze fierce.

But I wasn't scared of him. All I could feel inside me was anger, licking red hot like flames in the pit of my stomach, and another emotion that went hand in hand with it.

"This has _got_ to stop." His gaze softened, "I love you. You know I do. But I can't watch this go on anymore. I have to help you, and in order to do that, I had to know what was wrong."

I turned my face so I wasn't meeting his gaze.

"You can't help me."

He glared.

"Yes I can."

"How then? How do you think you can help me?" I challenged. He faltered.

"I…don't know. I don't." His admittance brought a tangent, sorrowful silence over us. He grasped my face in his hands and turned it so I was staring at him. "I know I can't lose you though. And I can tell, sure as anything, that that is what's going to happen if something isn't done."

And he was right. I knew he was because I had told him myself last night. My heart suddenly broke and for the first time in a while I felt as if leaving him would be worse than living. It came so unexpectedly, when I was so furious at him that I shook, and it wouldn't shake off for anything. I wanted everything to be like so long ago, when I didn't have to worry about anything except small, easily fixed issues. I didn't want my head to be so full of deaths that were out of my control but my fault anyway, of incidents where my heart was stolen and shattered in my very gaze, of men who want me to suffer and of their children inside of me. I just wanted it to be full of him, the only constant thing I had. The only person who knew me inside and out and didn't want to kill me. The only person I would ever feel this way about even if I lived until the last time the Earth revolved around the Sun.

So I kissed him with what I was sure was the last of the fire inside me. If this extinguished me it would be fine because the last thing I would be thinking would not be about sorrow and despair and hopelessness, but about love and care and the ability to forgive those you love and even those you do not. And above all else, I'd be thinking of Jake which was all those things and everything good left wrapped into one syllable. He kissed me back, but I'm sure he thought I was insane. That was perfectly fine with me though because I _was_ insane and it was nothing new to him.

My thoughts were clouded by him. Suddenly he was the only real thing in this world and it should have been that way all along. My heart seemed to beat smoother, and to hold some sort of rhythm, albeit a fast one. I couldn't seem to let myself get close to him mentally anymore but I hoped with every inch of my being that getting close physically would help bridge the gap I couldn't seem to cross on my own.

The kissing progressed into what we both knew it was going to the moment I kissed him. The moment we fell onto the bed he pulled away and restrained me with his hands.

"Wouldn't this be exactly what I was just getting yelled at about?" He asked breathlessly, "Me taking advantage of you in a vulnerable state?"

I pushed his hands away, "No. This would be _me_ taking advantage of _you_ in your vulnerable state."

"It won't be fair payback," he warned me, "I'm not going to be angry with you."

"It isn't payback."

_It's an act of desperation because I can't lose you either._

* * *

I tried to convince myself as I laid there that it could have been worse. Instead of having the pregnancy test come back positive I could have had one of the many sexually transmitted disease tests I'd taken come back positive instead of negative. I could have been unable to get close to him in any way.

But just because I knew it could be worse didn't make this level of unpleasantness anymore tolerable.

It was quiet now and my mind was free. I tried to good thoughts but my mind always drifted back to what I didn't want to remember. That I was pregnant and it was not with my husband's child.

I tried to tell myself the tests were wrong. How many times had I been given a positive when it was really negative? Too many to attempt to count. But I couldn't pledge ignorance to all the things I was starting to notice, things I'd just written off as sorrow before. There was no doubt I was pregnant. I found it kind of funny that the last time I was ignorant to pregnancy symptoms was when I was pregnant with Cole.

"What are you thinking about?"

I looked up from where I had absentmindedly been staring (his shoulder) and glanced at his face. He looked relaxed and at ease, almost happy, as if he thought this was a breakthrough for me and I would be back on my feet in no time. I wish he was always right.

"When I realized I was pregnant with Cole." It wasn't necessarily a lie. I had been thinking of that in a roundabout way. I wouldn't dare tell him what I was thinking and ruin his high.

He smiled a small, melancholy smile and his arm circled around my waist. I felt an unexplained wave of happiness crash over me and I smiled back. Suddenly I felt almost as good as I had when I was drunk and I relished the feeling.

"Can you believe it was such a long time ago?"

I wanted him to know how good I felt, even if I had no idea what brought along the feelings of happiness. I smiled at him. I was suddenly conscious of my sweltering cheeks, swollen lips, and sex hair. I reached up to comb my fingers through my hair but he tightened his grip. I relaxed automatically, reminding myself that if he didn't care about all the scars I had he wouldn't care about my hair or red face. If he could still find me attractive after another man had held me than anything else must pale in comparison. I realized then that maybe he didn't think of it that way, that maybe it didn't bother him as much as I always thought it would. The thought gave me a small seed of hope that planted itself deep in my mind. Hope that things could somehow, miraculously, go back to normal. But as soon as it was implanted it was viciously ripped away and its seams were torn by the reminder that I wasn't alone. There was something inside me that would always make me tainted by what had happened. Even if it was removed, destroyed, taken care of…something would always be wrong. I wanted to cry then. It wasn't far that when I finally got what I want it wasn't the way I wanted it. I wanted a baby but I didn't want his. I remembered how I'd told Jake it was Luke last night, and when I'd thought back on it in my sober state I'd been so confused as to why I'd said it. But it felt right now and I realized that it had been him all along.

When I didn't answer his question, Jake's eyes got intense with concern. He stroked my spine softly, his forehead resting against mine.

"Are you alright?"

"It's just not fair, you know? It's not fair that when I finally am pregnant its…" I couldn't finish my sentence. My honesty had to stop somewhere and I couldn't form the words out loud. I sniffed and my heart ached with oncoming tears.

Jake frowned. I felt bad for voicing it aloud.

"You're right, it isn't fair." And he left it at that because there was nothing more to say.

Silence drained in but I was perfectly content in his arms. This didn't feel scary at all; this didn't remind me of anything except good memories. This had happened so fast I really hadn't had any time to be scared about how it would make me feel until it was over. And when I finally considered my fears I was glad I hadn't had time to worry over them because they weren't possible. He wasn't anything like _him_.

It was easy to fall asleep when I was so content and comfortable. I felt my eyelids growing heavy and I allowed them to snap shut. I could feel his breath fanning over my face, his heartbeat, his breaths. I hadn't felt this relaxed in such a long time. I loved him so much that I could barely stand it. And me being here…in pain, in this condition…it hurt him. The plan was already solid in my mind before I even recognized it. He would never leave me even if it was for his own good. But I…I could do what was best for him.

"Jake?" I whispered quietly. His breathing was even and he didn't respond. His arm was lank around my waist. He had fallen asleep too. I kissed his mouth, his cheek, and his neck before he woke up. He smiled softly at me, his eyelids wanted to drift shut again.

"Jake…I'm leaving." It was hard to believe my own words when I was so happy here.

He pulled his mind from sleep's clutches quickly. He sat up, pulling me with him. I shivered as the cold air sprang goosebumps up on my skin. I rested against his warm body.

"Miley," he stared seriously at me, "what do you mean? Leaving? Leaving to go where? Why?"

I leaned my head against his shoulder, not wanting to be away from him even as I talked about going.

"I'm not well—and don't argue with me because we both know its true," I added, cutting him off when he was about to interject. "I can't keep hurting you and Cole. I can't. I need to go get well so I can come back and things can be better."

He was shaking his head before I finished.

"No. No. That won't help anything! You think we'd be better off without you?"

"Of course I do. You won't admit it to yourself but I know you know that you guys would be too."

"You can't go," He whispered into my skin, "I need you here. I love you. I love you. That's enough for you to stay."

"I love you too, which is why I'm going. I need help."

His arms tightened around me.

"Then you can get well here! I'll find the best shrink in the world! You just have to stay with me! Please…"

"I need to do this alone." _So you won't be hurt anymore._

"Miley…" He whispered and his voice was almost a cry. "Please don't do this. You can get better here. Please. _Please._"

Leaving would hurt him but staying would hurt him even more. The truth that I didn't want to tell him was that once I got rid of this baby I knew I would go into a depression like no other. And I did not want him to be around when that happened.

"I love you, Jake. I'll be back when I'm better." I whispered, trying to keep my voice upbeat and not show my own despair.

"Where will you go?" He asked.

I knew if I told him he'd come checking up on me. I had to give him peace of mind.

"Somewhere. I'll be fine." I tried to make my voice as confident as possible.

"How will I know if you're alright?"

"I'll…email you or leave you a message." I struggled to find a mean of communication that he couldn't easily get traced. "Will you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Once I leave go somewhere else. Don't stay here. Go to a different state."

His eyes searched mine before he nodded. There was a long pause.

"I don't want you to go." He finally whispered, pulling me back down beside him. I kissed him gently, not wanting my sorrow to make an appearance in the kiss.

"I don't want to either. But it has to be done." Could he tell my voice broke at the end?

He pulled me right up against him and held me there.

"Says who?"

When the tears I knew I was bound to cry came I hid my face against his chest so he wouldn't see.

"I'm here now. Can't we just pretend everything is okay?" My shook terribly.

He nodded and rested his face against my hair. And I wondered as he held me whether or not he knew this was the very last time he would ever hold me like this again. And if he knew it was, I wondered what exactly he would have done.

* * *

In a way our farewell was an appropriate one. You always read about couples where one of them dies and the remaining wishes they would have been able to spend their last time with them being together. That hadn't even been my plan when I'd kissed him, because I hadn't consciously known I was leaving yet, but I was glad the way everything turned out.

He slept restlessly as I got dressed. I packed a small bag. I didn't want to take too many things with me. By the time I was finished I was falling apart again. I leaned against the wall and rested my head against it, trying not to cry. But no matter what I told myself I couldn't get over the fact that this was the very last time I would see him. It was enough to make me want to go wake him up and be with him again. But not enough to make me change my mind.

It took me an hour to force myself from the room. I wandered into Cole's room, my heart aching and breaking and I couldn't look at his sleeping face. I couldn't do it. That did it and it was too much. I shot from the room and ran out of the apartment, not looking back because I knew if I did I'd never be able to go.

The first thing I did was go to an ATM machine. I didn't want to leave an electronic trail with any kind of credit or debit cards. I took out the smallest amount I could and took a taxi to a car rental. I paid the man in cash, put my bag in the backseat, and drove to a small town outside of the city. I found a small clinic where you didn't need an appointment and parked in the parking lot. I wanted to be certain.

I climbed out of the car and locked it. The waiting room smelled of hand sanitizer and it burned my nose as I filled out the papers the receptionist had given me. The lighting was dim and a woman with a little blond girl played with her daughter in the corner. They called the little girl first and me ten minutes later. I gave the receptionist my papers and followed the nurse into the hallway where she wrote down my weight, blood pressure, temperature, and the reason I was here. I told her I suspected pregnancy and left it at that. She led me to a small blue room. I saw on the crinkly papered bed and waited for the doctor. It didn't take her long to get there.

She smiled nicely at me.

"Hello. I'm Doctor Malone Tiber. How are you today?" She grabbed the chart and looked it over quickly.

"Fine." I muttered, my mind a few miles away.

She placed the chart down.

"Have you taken a pregnancy test?"

I nodded. "I was suspicious of the accuracy."

She nodded. She rummaged around in the cabinets while I was lost in my thoughts. She swapped the crease of the inside of my elbow with povidone-iodine and took my blood. I was so used to it that I didn't even flinch. She took the sample to the lab and I stared at the blood sprouting up from the puncture.

She came back and placed a Band-Aid over the spot.

"You'll get the results back tomorrow morning."

I nodded, climbing off the bed. Once the results came back positive I'd probably need to go back in for an ultrasound. That meant I needed to stay in town for at least another day.

Once I'd paid I climbed into the rental car and roamed around town, looking for a hotel. I found a small inn and parked in the driveway. I sat with the car running for a few moment before realizing that if I wanted to remain unfound I would have to do something about my appearance. I couldn't look like me. I put the car in reverse and drove around for a few more minutes, this time looking for a salon. I found a small one near an Italian restaurant and I parked on the street.

The salon smelled of perms and hairspray and the walls were a sickly bubble gum pink. I sat in a dirty lawn chair and waited until a woman with purple nails called me to a seat. I sat down and she fastened a cloak around my neck. She was gapping. I glared at her and she snapped out of it.

"What would you like done?" She nervously chomped her gum.

I looked at myself in the mirror, mulling over what I could do to change my appearance.

"Cut it until it's this length," I motioned to halfway down my neck, "And lighten it to an almost blond."

She nodded and pursed her bright red lipsticked lips, looking over my hair. I shut my eyes while she did it, pretending I was anywhere but here. The soft snip of the scissors cutting my hair filled my head. Once she was done she had me pick a color. I picked went against what I had previously said and picked a blonde that I had seen on the head of that little girl in the waiting room. After it was dyed she dried it. I glanced in the mirror. The contrast of my old hair shade and this would make it very hard for people to recognize me unless they really looked. I smiled softly when I realized with my new hair color I looked like I belonged in the Ryan family. I wondered what Jake would say if he saw my hair.

"Is that okay?" She asked nervously.

"Yes. Thank you very much."

"I think it's cute."

"Thank you." I repeated, "Do I need to go to the counter or do I just pay you?"

She blew a bubble. "You can just pay me."

I counted out the right amount and handed it to her. She looked like she wanted to say something but she stopped. I thanked her again and left.

Once I looked different I felt better. This would do for the short time I had to hide. I felt a small twinge of sadness inside me when I realized that when Jake saw me again he would not recognize me at first. They would say "Is this her?" and he'd glance at my body, his heart gathering hope when he realized it wasn't me. But a few more seconds of looking at my face and he'd realize it was me and have his hope crushed again. "Yes," he'd say, "it's her". How terribly sad our life was, what a tragedy it had always been. What a disappointment. If only things had been different…

It took me a minute to realize the rental car wasn't where I'd parked it. I frowned. I didn't want to leave that much extra debt for Jake to take care of when I died. I scanned the street and let out a breath of relief when I saw it across the street in a store's parking lot. I didn't feel any fear as I walked across the street. Whoever it was couldn't do anything to me that would hurt me. And I'd never tell where Jake and Cole were so they couldn't hurt them. I was untouchable.

I wasn't even surprised when I saw him in the front seat, lazily looking through my bag I'd packed. My stomach reacted, nausea hurting me. But I couldn't find any reason to be scared. He could only hurry up what was already going to happen. There was no evidence as to where anyone I cared about was in that bag, not that he'd go after them if I was here. He only wanted me dead. I wondered how he'd found me. If he was here he wasn't following Jake though, which made me perfectly happy.

He spotted me. He didn't smile like he might have a few years ago, his face stayed in a frown. I opened the door.

"Disguising yourself, are we? Who are you hiding from? Surely not me. If so, you just wasted money."

I shook my head.

"I'm not hiding from you." If Jake could hear how brave my voice was he'd be proud. Or disappointed in how easily I was letting myself be killed.

"Hmmm…" He examined my face. "Funny how we both want the same thing now. I never thought I'd see the day when we were on the same side."

"Life can surprise you." How casually I was talking to the man who singlehandedly ruined my whole entire life.

I was waiting for him to pull out a gun and kill me. Or maybe he was just going to strangle me. I wished he would do something fast. He climbed out of the car and smiled sardonically.

"I'm not happy to realize this is not a fun game at all when you are just as willing to die as I am for you too. But it has to be done, especially since it's what we both want now. However, it's a sad day and we both have somebody we love that is worried for us. Until we meet again?"

And he took off running in the opposite direction. I gaped after him, my head spinning. He wanted this over just as much as I did. But that was the first time I had ever heard him care about anyone other than himself. I realized with a flush of happiness that he thought Jake was with me. He thought I had someone to go home to like he obviously did. It was hard to imagine him with a family. I realized then that I was glad he hadn't killed me. I wanted to somewhere and get things in order. I wanted to say some final words to those that mattered the most to me. I wanted to know the results to the test.

I wondered about one thing he had said, though. He had said it was a sad day. It was for me but I wondered made it a sad day for both of us. And for some reason, I felt like the answer was in the rest of that sentence.

I got back in the car and drove back to the inn I had seen earlier. I rented a room and collapsed on the bed, exhaustion taking over me. I lay still for a few moments before sitting up. I pulled my laptop from my back and turned it on. I pulled up my email and opened two new emails, one for Jake and one for Cole. But no matter how long I stared at the blinking line I couldn't think of the right words to say. How did you turn love into words? How do you tell the people you love the most that you're going to be dead by the time you leave them? How do you thank them for all the years? How do you apologize for everything?

I didn't have any idea how to put words in the right order, how to say things in a way that would express how much they meant to me. They would only know if they were me, if they lived my life, if they felt what I felt.

I leaned my head against the wall and placed my laptop on my lap. I wanted them understand who I was and the way I felt. The best way to do that was to start where all this started. I rested my fingertips on the keys. I'd start with Jake's first, because it was longer. I considered starting his when I met him, but our story didn't really start there. It started the moment I met him on that highway. He'd heard my side of what happened to us so many times, but he had never heard it along with what I was thinking and how I felt. Instead of starting right when I saw him on the road I backtracked a little farther…what had Oliver said that day? How had it all started? If I close my eyes I can see it all as plain as day…I typed the beginning but found myself pausing and staring at the words I had just written.

_He looked at me and said quietly,_

"_Hello Miley." I moved closer to Oliver and said,_

"_Hey Luke."_


	28. Consequences

**A/n: **Hi! Sorry for the long wait. I changed my pen name due to certain reasons that were out of my control, sorry for any confusion. Thank you all for the reviews and I am going to try my hardest to update faster. Thanks to my betas, as usual :D

* * *

**"[I'm] Finding myself making every possible mistake," -- Yael Naim, "New Soul"**.

* * *

_I woke up on Jake's side of the bed with a sore neck and a draft of cold air chilling the upper right part of my body. I tugged unhappily at the blanket. It was hanging halfway on me and halfway on the floor. I tugged at it again, wishing it was thinner so it wasn't so heavy. _

"_Pulling the blanket won't get me and my sexy bod any closer," Jake joked. _

_I ignored him, tugging harder on the blanket. I was getting annoyed. I tugged three more times. _

"_Okay, I give up. What are you trying to do?" _

_I gave up and just snuggled more under the small part of the blanket I had. I yawned. _

"_There's a draft," I complained. _

_His pleasantly warm arm wrapped around my waist and he dragged my body over toward his. I groaned unhappily as the blanket completely came off me and the cold air touched my skin. It wasn't as bad when he pulled me against him and wrapped his arms around me but the back of me was still freezing. He pulled the sheet up over us. It was still drafty but it was better than nothing. _

"_Hey." He poked my stomach. I batted at his hand. _

"_Miiiiley…" He tickled my leg. I squirmed. _

"_Jaaaake," I mocked, sleep making it less sarcastic. _

_He sighed. He rested his hand on my lower back which made me hope he was going to stop trying to chit-chat and let me sleep. _

_I was just drifting off when he called my name again. I sighed. It was cold without his arms around me. I reached up to grab them again but my hand smacked into his stomach instead. He grunted and I jumped up. _

"_Shit! Oh shit! Jake, I'm sorry!" I hadn't opened my eyes yet and I paused a minute to take in the surroundings. I guess it wasn't as bad is it could have been. I looked at Jake. He looked okay now and he was grinning at me. I let out a breath of relief and slid back down into his arms. I scooted closer. _

"_I'm sorry." I mumbled again. _

_His hands moved to my hair and he tried to undo tangles. _

"_That hurts," I muttered._

_His hands moved down my neck and stroked my back. He leaned in closer. _

"_But it'll be worth it, don't you think?" His seductive voice gave me butterflies and made me think of last night. My heart rate accelerated. He grinned wickedly. _

"_You're blushing." _

"_No shit." _

_He ran a finger down my side, looking thoroughly entertained. _

"_Is that your favorite word now?" _

"_Maybe. It kind of rolls off the tongue." _

"_It wasn't your favorite word last night," he whispered, his voice purposely low because he likes to harass me, "But that also rolled off the tongue." _

_I caught his hand with mine and brought it up to my face. I rested my cheek against it to show him how warm it was. Or in other words, show how much he was humiliating me. _

_He laughed and I couldn't help but giggle along. My happiness overrode the crankiness. _

_I dropped his hands and pressed mine against his abs. I smiled at him as I stroked his chest sweetly. _

"_You are such a liar." _

_My smile faltered and my hands dropped. He gently grabbed my hands and pressed them back to his chest. I hesitantly put them back where they were. He smiled. _

"_You go around so innocently and sweetly and everyone thinks you are like Mother Theresa." He explained, "But you definitely aren't." _

"_I can't control the way they see me. Besides, you should feel flattered that you're the only person who knows how bad I can be," I paused, "Well you and Orlando, of course." _

_He glared. _

"_Notice how I'm here with you and he isn't," Jake pointed out. _

_I shrugged, "He was busy." My offhand tone made him roll his eyes. _

"_You really should get someone else to have a pretend-affair with," he rested his hand on my shoulder, "I can't help but be a bastard toward him at parties and meetings and he's actually a nice guy." _

_I raised my eyebrows and smiled evilly, "I know." _

"_Do you know how we ended up opposites sides of the bed?" He changed the subject. _

"_I was gonna ask you…" _

"_Hmmm," His finger traced my lips, "I'm going to have to guess—and this is me just tossing around ideas—that it happened because of the same reason the pillows are halfway across the room and your underwear is on top of that lamp over there." _

"_It is not," I gasped, mortified. I looked over his head at the bedside table, "You so planted that there." _

_He smirked, "That would have been a pretty funny idea but I didn't need to. You did all the work yourself." _

"_Jerk." I sniffed. He hugged me. _

"_I still can't believe you managed to pull this off. How did you get Smith into it?" _

_I smiled, satisfied. I had planned this weekend just for us because work had been so stressful lately. But instead of just telling Jake that, I got his director to tell him that we had to go to San Francisco for a meeting and press conference. The excuse for me going was the publicity party we were supposed to attend. I let Jake be miserable and think we were here for work all the way to the hotel. Then I finished up my plan. I honestly couldn't believe I'd pulled it off either. But I was glad I had. _

"_Easily. I—"_

"_You better not have shown him your naughty side," Jake interrupted, jokingly glaring at me. _

"_Oh…then…um…I gave him a pony?" I coughed. Shock covered his face and it took him a minute to realize I was kidding. _

_He sighed dramatically and quickly grabbed my shoulder and turned us so I was on my back and he was above me. _

"_You're just being a complete tease now," He accused, glaring intensely at me even though his eyes smiled. _

_I stuck my tongue out at him. _

_He lay down beside me and propped his cheek up on an upturned palm. _

"_What are we going to do with you?" _

"_I don't know who this we is or why they are included in this conversation but I want them gone. This is me and you time." I pressed the tip of my nose to his and laughed. His face broke into a smile and he laughed along with me. _

"_Okay," he rephrased, "what am _I _going to do with you?" _

_I turned on my side so I could see him better. My head rested on the mattress and he looked down at me from his propped up gaze. I grabbed his hand and held it to my neck, intertwining my fingers with his. He moved it down from my neck and trailed it down my arm before pulling me into a tight hold against him. I pulled away a little so I could talk without it being muffled. I idly drew imaginary pictures on his chest with my fingertips._

"_I'm going to have to guess—and this is me just tossing around ideas—," he gave me a withering look at my mocking, "that it's probably going to be something like what we did last night? I could be wrong, but then again, I never am…"_

"_Now look who's being an egomaniac." He grinned. I shoved lightly against his chest. _

"_Jake Ryan." _

"_Thats my name. But you already know that...actually, most the hotel does by now. I'm not sure if you could get louder even if you tried." _

_I kissed his shoulder. "I'm not the only one…" I shoot back, my voice full of implications. _

_He seemed to glow with over-confidence. _

"_I know. And I am not embarrassed, unlike you. I take pride in my exemplary love-making skills." He gloated. _

"_Funny. Orlando and Smith said the same, exact thing." _

"_You know how I know you're a fibber?" His smile never left his face. _

"_I love you too much?" _

"_Nope," He pulled back the sheet and smirked, "You mark up way too easily. If you were sleeping around with Orlando I would have noticed." _

"_Maybe," I shot back, sitting up, "he doesn't like it rough. Ever think about that?" _

_Jake snorted._

"_What's that supposed to mean?" _

"_That I don't believe that excuse." _

_I leaned in toward him, "And why not?" _

_He leaned in, mimicking my action, "Because who wouldn't get carried away with you?"_

_My heart was beating so hard I couldn't hear myself think. "Ummm…Orlando?" I struggled out, "Smith?" He leaned closer, "A monk?" I finished weakly. _

_He kissed me, his hands tight on my shoulders. I gripped him to me and kissed him back. I pushed him back on his back and lay halfway on top of him. He ran his hands down my back and breathed deeply through his nose before he pulled away. _

"_No, really though, how did you get Smith to agree to it?" _

_I faked a grimace as I stared down at him. _

"_You were thinking of Smith when I was kissing you? I'm insulted." _

"_You don't want to know what I was thinking about." He reached up and wrapping his arms around my middle and gently pulled me down. I fell on top of him. I left my face pressed into his chest as I talked. My voice came out extremely muffled._

"_I think I have a pretty good idea,"_

_He laughed. "You're not going to be able to keep from answering. What did you do to get him to agree?" _

_I lifted my head and moved my body up so we were at eye level, "Wanna bet?" _

_He smiled widely, "Either way I win." _

_His hands moved off my back. It made me realized that I was still cold. His warm hands had been sufficient for a while. I sat up and started to move away. His hand grasped my arm. _

"_Where are you going?" He complained. _

"_I'm cold," I whined, "I'm getting the blanket." _

"_It's not cold in here," he argued, "and the sheet is right there."_

_I tugged on his hand, "It's not warm enough." _

_I reached with my other arm, trying to grab the edge of the heavy blanket. I grabbed the edge but it was way too heavy for me to pull. I glanced at Jake, pushing my lower lip out and making my eyes pleading. He sighed and dropped my arm. _

_I climbed off the bed and grabbed the blanket off the floor. It was soft. I was about to climb in the bed when I noticed his boxers hanging from an open drawer. I picked them up and raised an eyebrow, smirking. _

"_Oh like you don't know who was responsible for that," He crossed his arms above his head and rested it on them. He looked so beautiful that my mind went blank for a second. _

"_Like what you see?" I could practically hear his ego growing. I snapped out of it before he became even more egotistical. _

"_I wonder where the rest of our clothes are…" I looked around the room. I spotted my bra by the bottom of the bed, his shirt, and then of course the underwear on top of the lamp. I was starting to feel a little self conscious so I went over to his suitcase. I dropped his boxers on the floor. I wrapped the blanket around my shoulder and kneeled down. All I had packed was fancy clothes and other underwear sets that were for looks more than comfort. He would have been suspicious if I had a suitcase full of relax clothes. I did have three pairs of pajamas in there, though. I tried to remember which ones I had packed. I decided getting up and going into the bathroom to get the suitcase was unnecessary and just opened his. He was an over packer, just like he over boarded on beauty products. I pulled a pair of draw-string shorts out and a t-shirt. _

"_Oh great now you're getting dressed," He pouted, "I knew the whole letting go of you thing was a terrible idea." _

"_You act like you'll never see me naked again. Do you want something?" _

"_You." _

"_Not on the menu right now. I meant clothes." _

"_I, unlike you, am more than satisfied with my body and could walk around naked every day of my life. But if you're getting dressed there's no reason for me not to." He sighed. I grabbed a pair of navy blue boxers for him. I climbed back into the bed with the clothes. I set them beside me and pulled his t-shirt on. I reached to grab the shorts but he already had them on. I glared and grabbed the boxers. _

"_You did that on purpose," I accused. _

_He shrugged, at ease, "You look sexy in my underwear." _

"_Thanks. I'm not so sure how you would look in mine, though." _

_He sighed dramatically as I finished getting semi-clothed. _

"_You can't have everything, baby. I get to look sexy in everything else. There has got to be one exception." _

_I crawled back into his arms. He completely ignored the shirt and stuck his hand up the back of it. _

"_What are my exceptions?" I asked curiously. _

"_Hmmm…when you're—no wait that's still…Oh! When…no, dammit, that is a turn on…okay I've got it! When you're throwing up you aren't sexy. But you're still beautiful." _

"_Suck up." _

"_Oh ho ho! Look who's talking." _

_I punched him in the arm. _

"_You have a really dirty mouth, you know that? I need to call Alana and get her to wash it out."_

"_You have a dirty mouth too," He wiggled his eyebrows at me. _

_I smacked him on the arm again. _

"_Screw that. I'll just go get the soap myself." _

"_Alright. Meet you in the shower. I'll be the blonde one looking sexy," He winked. _

"_Do you remember when I told you that your unnaturally large and swollen ego can sometimes make me want to shoot myself in the foot?" _

_He nodded. _

"_This is one of those times." _

_He pulled me back on top of him and he kissed me twice. _

"_I'm sorry, my sexy little gumdrop, I just get confident when I feel accomplished." _

"_Don't _ever_ call me that again." I smiled sweetly. _

"_Fine. What was it you called me last night? I think it was something along the lines of—" I smacked my hand over his mouth just as he started to imitate me. _

"_I probably called you a cocky bastard." _

"_One part of that is kind of right." His eyes suddenly widened, "HEY! You never told me!" _

_I blinked at him in confusion, "Told you what?" _

"_Told me how you pulled this off!" He motioned with his hand at the hotel room. _

"_Well, Jakey honey, there's this thing called sexual attraction. When a man is—"_

"_Not what I mean! How did you get Smith to go along with it?" _

_I laughed, "I made you forget." _

"_Only for a few minutes." _

_The challenge in his voice caught my attention. _

_I changed the subject quickly, "I'm almost finished with my CD." _

"_Finally! When are you going to write one all about me?" _

_I gazed at him like he was mentally handicapped. _

"_What do you think the last, like, three have been about?"_

_He stared blankly at me. _

"_If we were a movie…" I sang off, trying to trigger his memory. _

"_We'd be a porno!" He exclaimed happily._

"_Ugh. How do you not know they are all about you?" I was mildly insulted. "Do you not read the dedications? Or listen to the lyrics?" _

_He kissed my cheek, "I'm just kidding. I know they are about me. Thank you." _

_I smiled. He paused. _

"_Another reason. There's not any about Orlando." _

"_There were. But my manager said they were too…explicit for the album." _

"_Very funny." I could tell the last question was burning underneath his lips. I stretched and yawned and casually tugged his boxers down a few inches. I acted like I was itching a spot on my side and I pulled my hand up, dragging the shirt up with me, until it rested just below my breasts. He moved closer and his hands stroked my stomach. I kissed him as seductively as I could manage and things got a little out of control after that. Hands were roaming everywhere and somehow we had ended up at the foot of the bed. _Ooh…that explains a lot, _I thought. _

_I pulled away and sat up before I got way too gone also. It took me a second to get my breathing under control. _

"_Do you want to know what I did now?" _

_He stared vacantly at my legs, "What do you mean?" _

"_You know…what you wanted to know…" _

"_Ummmm…" There was an awkward pause and then he pushed—or rather shoved—me back down. _

"_I have no idea what you are talking about," he admitted. _

"_Didn't think so." I managed to mutter out before his lips occupied mine. I figured this was the best time to tell him the conditions in which I had agreed with Smith. I pulled away and scooted up until my back was against the headboard. He turned us so he was sitting against it and I was in his lap. Even I was finding it hard to keep my sanity at this point. I pulled away from him. His disheveled hair made me giggle._

"_We have all weekend," I reminded him, "we can slow down. I'm not going anywhere." He looked at me like I was speaking a language he didn't understand. I rushed through the next part, "Exceptthenexttwoweekswe'regoingtobespendingourtimeatnighttogetherrunninglinesuntilyougetthemdown."_

_He blinked. _

"_What did you say?" _

"_Your boxers are comfy. I want your body." _

"_Who doesn't? And I know they are. Wanna keep them?" He kissed my neck. _

"_You'd like that, wouldn't you," I mumbled quietly under my breath. _

"_Hmmm?" He asked. _

"_I said Orlando probably sucks in bed, unlike you, who are the great master of everything in the bed." _

"_No one can even compare," He agreed. I grasped his shoulders and fell backwards, pulling him on top of me. He curved his hand down my side and hip and pressed his lips against mine. He mumbled his next words._

"_You'll pay for that, yes I would like it and I outsmarted you. I now have you and the information I wanted." _

_I wanted to be angry, but I couldn't help but feel happy that he knew me so well that he had been able to weasel out the information. _

"_I love you." _

"_I know. You reminded me plenty last night." _

"_UGH!"

* * *

_Remembering the good times made the bad hurt just a little less. We were so immature, so naïve, but so happy back then that I longed to go back in time. I was such an idiot.

I sat up and stared at the wall in the dark.

Why couldn't I have just been happy with what I had? I had had more than I deserved but still had wanted more. The more you take the more you lose.

Jake hadn't had that level of megalomania in years. Maybe he just grew out of it, or maybe it was because he didn't feel like he had anything to be proud of anymore.

I wanted to sleep but I was so cold my teeth were chattering. I climbed out of the bed, shaking even more when the cold air hit me, and walked over to the closet in the room. I opened it and lifted the small space heater I'd seen earlier out. I carried it over to the only outlet that didn't have heavy furniture over it—the one in front of the very large window—and plugged it up. I cranked it up to high and sat down in front of it.

I reached over and pulled the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around me. Even in front of the heater with a sweatshirt and sweatpants on I was freezing. I wondered if this inn's heating was broken. The house looked like it was from antebellum times so I wouldn't be very shocked. I reached up and yanked the curtains back, but there wasn't much of anything to look at. The stars glittered the sooty sky and I could see hardly any lights on. A small house near the very end of the road had one light on but that was all. I liked this town. That knowledge surprised me. I hadn't thought after all this I'd still have personal preferences.

I turned the heater to the side and turned around so I could lean my back against the wall. The heater puffed burning heat onto my left side. I leaned my head back and shut my eyes. It was hard to believe it was going to be over soon, that in the latest two weeks later, I would be gone to whatever comes after. I couldn't find sadness about the experiences I wouldn't get to have. I could only feel sadness that I was leaving the people I loved to deal with my mess. I felt remorse that they would hurt at my selfish expense, but how long I had hurt at theirs?

I breathed as deeply as I could, taking as much air as I could, and held it before exhaling slowly. I didn't really think about much of anything before the room was filled with the soft, dim, periwinkle color of dawn. I climbed up on the bed and sat with my legs crossed, watching the sunrise out of the window. The colors of sherbet ice cream melted into the silk light blue expanse of sky and I thought to myself that this is a great last sunrise. I would have loved to share this moment with Jake, but we had had plenty of sunrises together. All I had to do was remember. I felt the first pang of fear when I realized I might not have those memories in whatever comes next. I might lose those sunrises. I might lose everything. Jake, Cole, my little daughters, Lilly, Oliver, Lana, Jackson, my dad, my mom…

I tried to tell myself that I didn't have to do this. I didn't have to kill myself, I didn't have to betray Jake and my family, and I didn't have to kill this baby. But it is so _hard _being rational when everything inside you that is responsible for making decisions is mangled.

I sat immobile, with the heater burning my arm, until my cell phone went off. I unfolded myself and stood up. I stumbled over to the bed and grabbed the phone off it. I checked the ID carefully. I had thought it would be the doctor's office but it was Jake. My knees gave out and I slumped down at the foot of the bed, my hand squeezing tightly around the phone. My heart ached so badly and tried to make my hand answer it, but it stayed locked firmly around it. I held it to my chest and cried. I wanted nothing more than to be back with him, to talk with him…to just hear him. But I was a junkie and I couldn't take that last hit.

He left a voicemail. I couldn't make myself listen to it, but I couldn't make myself delete it either. I pressed ignore on the phone even though I knew I'd never be able to press that in my heart. I stared at the wall for an hour, waiting, just waiting for the call that would tell what I already knew. I kept waiting…

* * *

"_Some kids are picking on him! That has to be it! Some little brats are bullying him!" I tried to whisper as best as I could but my hysteria made it almost impossible. Jake sighed and rolled his eyes. _

"_You worry too much. I told you, they probably just want a meeting with us and Cole." _

_I slowed my pace and peeked into Mrs. Cherry's classroom. I didn't see Cole in there which meant he was already in the guidance office. I spun around to face Jake. _

"_What if he told the counselor about accidently walking in on us at that New Years party? Oh my God! What if they take him away!" _

"_First of all, he walked in on us kissing. I don't even think they call that second base in middle school. And second, they can't take him away for that." Jake soothed. I nodded and nervously picked at the visitor pass badge we'd been given. Jake smiled comfortingly and took off in the direction of the office again. I hurried to catch up. We walked in silence for a full minute. _

"_I yelled at him the other day. What if Cole exaggerated that by accident?" _

_Jake sighed and stopped me in front of a door. The glass had colorful paper print-offs that read things like Peer Counseling—What it Can Do For You, The Top Ten Ways To Say No To Drugs, and How To Report Abuse. Jake suddenly grasped my arms. He pulled me into a hug. _

"_Try to relax." He kissed my cheek twice before letting me go. I felt a little better after that and I took a deep breath. _

"_Okay," I squared my shoulders, "let's get this over with." _

_He opened the door. He walked in first and I followed slowly. The room was bright with egg-yolk yellow paint and hot pink and blue furniture. It smelled so strongly of vanilla that I resisted the urge to gag. A secretary looked up from her desk. Her black hair was pulled back in sparkle clips and her dress screamed _Sesame Street_. I felt bad for her. She smiled such a cheerful smile that it looked painful. I smiled back, my eyes officially watering from the odor. Great, now the shrink was going to think I was crying. _

"_Come this way, Mr. and Mrs. Ryan." She sprang up out of her hot pink chair and motioned for us to follow her. Jake glanced at me, his nose scrunched up at the smell. He gave me a pointed look then turned around and followed the girl. She led us down a very short hallway. At the end of it was a bright lime green door. The window was plastered with different color neon smiley faces. _

"_Welcome to Hell," Jake hissed quietly under his breath. _

_The secretary knocked once on the door. A moment later a woman answered. She led Jake and me into the office. _

_This office's walls were bright purple and lime green striped. I figured it was supposed to make me feel happy but it did the opposite. It made me feel tense and annoyed._

"_Please, have a seat." The woman's voice was so high pitched that I had to look up to make sure it wasn't a student. Her hair was such a bright red that I couldn't even stand to look long enough to see her face. Cole looked up from the chair and jumped up. He ran toward us, looking scared. He wrapped his arms around me and hid his face in my stomach, acting terrified. Looking at the woman I could understand why. I stroked his hair and slowly detached him from and kneeled down. He kept his head bowed. His eyes were red and he was hiccupping like crazy. _

"_What is it honey?" I asked in the bravest voice I could muster. Only Jake seemed okay in the room. He kneeled down beside me and waited for our son's answer. Cole didn't reply. He just hugged Jake so tightly I didn't think he was going to let go. I was getting extremely worried. Jake picked him up and carried him over to the seat. I took the one closest to the window and Jake sat in the middle one, leaving the seat beside him empty for Cole (if he ever let go of his father). _

"_I'm so glad you could make it!" Her voice was so peppy I wanted to get up and leave. _

"_Of course. What is this about?" I didn't even care about being polite. My son was hysterical and I wanted to know why. _

_She smiled underneath her neon hair. _

"_Have either of you been receiving letters from your son's teacher?" _

_I looked at Jake in confusion. We shook our heads. _

"_Mrs. Cherry was beginning to guess that you weren't getting them when she never received a letter back and nothing changed." _

_Nothing changed? What the hell did she mean?_

"_Could you explain that?" Jake asked politely. There was an edge to his voice that only I recognized. _

"_Well, Mr. Ryan…your son has been refusing to follow instructions lately. It's become a disruptive problem in the classroom." _

_I looked at Cole in surprise. He loved school! He peeked up at me and Jake then quickly hid his face again. Jake sighed and lifted Cole, placing him in the chair beside him. _

"_Is that true?" He asked him. Cole shrugged and kept his head bowed. _

"_Could you give me specific examples?" I asked her. _

_She nodded and rummaged through papers on her desk. She picked one up and opened it. _

"_He draws during lessons, refuses to sit separated by gender at the lunch table, was unnecessarily harsh to a student after the student pushed a Ms. Emily Oken down, laughs during announcements, and does not put out effort on school work." _

"_Well isn't he just the little Hell child!" Jake said sarcastically, "Does he take too many drinks out of the water fountain too?" _

_She glared. "Misconduct is not a joke." _

_This was ridiculous._

"_Why do they separate by gender at lunch anyway? That's absurd. Cole's best friend is a girl. I wouldn't follow that rule either!" Jake and Cole nodded in agreement. _

"_It isn't the parent's job to question the way we run our school. If you have a problem with that rule take it up with the principal."_

"_Oh I plan to." Jake smiled. _

"_Ma'am, in all due respect, I don't see the problem. I will talk to him about not paying attention during class, but I don't see how him verbally standing up for a defenseless friend is bad." I smiled at Cole at the end of my sentence. _

"_Because it wasn't his job to do it. He should have told on the child instead of taking matters into his own hands." _

"_We're not going to tell Cole not to stick up for people." Jake voiced my thoughts, "If he had physically done something, then we would talk." _

_The woman frowned and leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. _

"_With all due respect, if you raise Cole to think he can take punishment into his hands when he finds it morally correct you are going to inset him with terrible risks for the future." She pulled at her necklace and I remembered something Jake had told me. He said when people felt threatened they unconsciously touched their throat. I wondered why she was scared of us. _

_Her words made me feel doubt. Suppose she was right and we were wrong and we were teaching Cole something that wasn't morally correct. I sighed and climbed out of my seat. I kneeled in front of Cole's and took his small hand in mine. He sniffed and looked up at me. _

"_Coley, honey, I am very, very proud of you for sticking up for Emily. But next time you should just go to a teacher." _

_He wiped at his eyes. More tears dripped out of them and took the disposed place. I reached out for him and he threw his arms around my neck. I rubbed his back while he cried, the internal conflict raging war. After a minute I gently moved back and he sat up straight in his chair. _

"_I'm sorry mommy. I didn't mean to be bad! But if I wouldn't have told Jonathon to stop he would have hit her." _

_I started to reply, but Jake interrupted me, and I knew the edge in his voice was directed at me this time. _

"_You were not bad. You did everything you should have done. You were very good." Jake soothed. _

"_But mommy said—_

"_Your mother—" Jake started. I cut him off. _

"_All I'm saying, honey, is that you should go to a teacher next time. Or at least be nice when you tell the bully to stop." Cole looked at up me, confused. _

"_He wasn't nice to Emily. Why should I be nice to him?" _

_Everyone fell silent at that. I sighed, settling into a sitting position on the floor. The counselor spoke up. _

"_Cole, that's what the teachers are there for. They are there to make sure kids like Emily are safe at recess. You don't need to do it. You could get yourself in a lot of trouble for doing that. Next time just call for a teacher." _

"_This is idiotic!" Jake exploded, "Since when are children supposed to be taught not to stand up for each other?!" _

_She glared, or at least I think she did. The movement of her eyebrows made it seem that way. _

"_Since it breaks the rules in the handbook, Mr. Ryan." _

_Jake turned to Cole, "Whenever you see someone getting made fun of or hurt you need to stand up for them. Is that understood?" _

_Cole's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. He had everyone telling him something different. _

"_Yes…can I please go back to Mrs. Cherry's room now?" He pleaded. _

_The counselor sighed. "Yes, Cole, you may in just one minute." She turned to us. "Please help teach your son the school rules so the learning environment is not disrupted. Thank you for coming. Do you have any questions?" _

_Jake jumped up. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up. He took Cole in his arms and quickly steered us out of the office. The woman at the desk looked up from her computer as we passed. _

"_Have a kickin' day!" _

_I nodded at her as Jake yanked us out of the room. The hallway was a burst of fresh, clean air, silence, and colors that didn't make my eyes water. I pulled my hand free of Jake's and leaned against the wall for a moment. Jake set Cole down. He glared at me before taking Cole's hand. _

"_Let's get you back to class," he started down the hallway. Cole and I both struggled to catch up with his pace. We stopped in front of Mrs. Cherry's classroom and I waited while Jake took him in. I waved goodbye and blew Cole a kiss before the classroom door was shut. Jake ignored me, stalking off toward the entrance. _

_I followed him silently. The woman in the front office buzzed the doors open and we walked out into the dreary light. His pace slowed the closer we got to his car. He unlocked the doors and we climbed in. He viciously started the car and fastened his seatbelt with vengeance. His hand moved to put the car in drive but I reached over and grasped it. _

"_I'm sorry." _

_He took his hand out of mine. _

"_You told our son not to stand up for people. You listened to that woman and you made me look like an idiot. I thought we were supposed to be a team while raising Cole, not opposing forces." He looked away from me, seething. I ignored my shame and guilt. _

"_I know. I'm sorry. But some of the things she was saying made sense. I didn't want to tell him the wrong thing." I muttered, staring at my feet. _

"_You should have just gone with your initial instinct and not let her dictate your opinion." _

_The guilt tore at me and I wished I could go back in time. _

"_I know. I'm sorry. I should have stayed behind you instead of letting her persuade me. Forgive me?" _

_I looked up at him and he sighed. A smile covered his face and I smiled in return. _

"_You already were. I love you too much to stay mad for more than about three minutes." _

_I hesitantly placed my hand back in his. He squeezed it and I leaned my head against the seat, still smiling. _

"_I love you too. I think we've raised him okay enough if the only thing he's getting in trouble for is sticking up for his friends." _

"_Better than okay. At this age I was setting things on fire." Jake joked. _

_I folded a leg underneath me and kissed his hand. _

"_But you were a Devil child, so that isn't a very good comparison." _

_He pretended to be offended. _

"_I was a spectacular child, just like I'm a spectacular man now! How dare you accuse me of being evil! Besides, you danced around naked at parties when you were that age. Or no…wait a minute…I think that was actually just a year ago." _

"_Very funny. It was when I was that age and that was only because Jackson pushed me into a pile of mud. I was going in the house to get clothes. How was I supposed to know I wasn't supposed to let strangers see me naked?" I defended myself. _

_He laughed loudly. "You really are something special. And so is Cole. We really have done a good job haven't we?" _

_I nodded. There was a pause. _

"_Jake?" I asked. _

"_Yes?" _

"_We're wasting gas."

* * *

_The phone rang. I answered it, my hands shaking.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mrs. Ryan?"

I nodded, gulping for air. It took me a minute to remember she couldn't see me.

"Yes."

"We just got your test results back. Would you like the results now or should I send them in the mail?"

"Now would be best." The back of my eyes burned.

"Your pregnancy test came back positive. You'll need to schedule an appointment for an ultrasound so we can see how far along you are and how the fetus is doing. Would you like to schedule that now?"

I cleared my throat and tightened my fingers around the phone, trying to find my voice.

"Um, yes. I would like to get one done as soon as possible. I…" I stopped, unsure of what I wanted to say. I sniffed and pressed the back of my palm against my wet eye.

"Alright, Mrs. Ryan. We can get you in…" I heard the sound of turning pages, "actually, we have an opening today at noon. If you can't make that one there's one—"

"Noon is great." I interrupted. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. For best results please make sure to drink a lot of water before you come in. Have a nice day." She hung up. I ended my side of the conversation and threw the phone down on the bed. _Don't count on it.

* * *

_Noon rolled by quickly, something I was extremely thankful for. I had driven four towns away to get more money out of an ATM machine; just to be sure I had enough to pay for the medical expenses. I drove straight to the doctor's office from there, eager to get this all over with.

I pulled into the parking lot and parked the car. I was right on time by this clock. I finished the rest of my bottled water and I hurriedly got out of the car and walked into the building. The receptionist smiled at me and I wondered if she even recognized me. I approached her.

"I'm here for the noon ultrasound."

She nodded slowly, "You look different." She pushed forms at me, "Have a seat."

It only took me three minutes to fill out the forms. I probably could have done it with my eyes shut. I gave them back to her and was only waiting another minute before I was called back. I had to get the basic checkup done again, but once it was confirmed my heart rate and temperature were fine, she led me in a different direction. I followed this nurse into a different room than before. This room was very big with white walls. The equipment was already set up and I sat on the cot.

The ultrasound technician was an old, kind looking woman. She smiled at me when she came in and made small talk while she was getting everything set up.

"Are you on vacation here?"

I nervously wrung my hands together.

"Yes…" I replied carefully, not wanting to give anything away.

She nodded politely. There was a pause while she set the tub of Ultrasound Transmission Gel on the side tray. She grabbed a roll of paper towels and I pushed my shirt up until it was just underneath my bust line. She didn't look surprised that I didn't need instructions. I pulled my pants down until my abdomen was in full view and she handed me the paper towels. I tucked the paper towels along the waistband of my pants to keep the gel from getting on them.

"Why isn't your husband here?"

I was appalled and surprised by her blunt and rude question. I gapped for a moment and when I was sure she wasn't going to take back the question, I answered her as best as I could.

"He's doing something for work." I lied. I avoided her eyes and watched her unscrew the top of the gel. She nodded again, and carefully squirted a medium amount of the gel on my stomach. This gel was clear, not blue like the kind I was used to. She spread it out evenly and fiddled with the machine. A few moments later she was holding the transducer above my stomach. I was glad I wasn't hooked up to a heart monitor because my heart rate suddenly spiked. I couldn't understand this reaction. I knew I was pregnant. I knew it was his baby. I knew how this was going to end. So why was the suspense driving my heart rate out of its healthy range?

She ran the transducer over my stomach, keeping her eyes on the screen. She kept her face composed as she read it. I avoided the screen studiously. If I saw that baby on the screen I wouldn't be able to do anything. I wished we were back in time and still used the basic black-and-white grainy ultrasounds. These new 4D ultrasounds were amazing if you wanted your child, but heart breaking if you didn't.

She seemed to notice I wasn't looking.

"Would you like to see?" I was so distressed that I didn't even notice the way she dodged around the word baby. I took a deep breath and shook my head quickly.

"No, that's okay."

There was a pause in which all I could hear was the hum of the machine. She moved the transducer to another part of my stomach.

"Miley, I know about what happened with your other children. I know you must be worried and too scared to get close to this. But everything in this screen looks perfectly healthy. I'm not supposed to tell you anything, but you need to know that. Would you like a portrait?"

I hadn't even realized I was crying until she asked me if I was okay. At that moment the doctor came in. It was the same doctor from my last visit. She greeted the technician and came to stand by the monitor. She placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Miley, I need you to get a hold of yourself so I can tell you how far along you are and how everything is going."

Her strict voice sobered me up. I took a shaky breath and turned my head around. I kept my eyes on her so I didn't have to see the screen. She smiled softly. She turned her eyes to the monitor and was thoughtful for a moment. She muttered something to the technician and I counted the tiles on the roof while they worked with something.

"According to the fetal measurements you are approximately nineteen weeks along. This puts you in your second trimester. Because of…"

I tuned her out, my head spinning so badly I thought I was going to pass out. I shut my eyes and held very still, breathing through my mouth in shallow breaths.

"Hey…is she alright?"

The doctor turned her attention to me. The technician moved the transducer off my stomach for a moment.

"Miley....Miley…" She called softly. My head was still spinning so badly I wanted to be sick.

"I think I'm going to pass out," I whispered. She placed her hand on my forehead.

"You're not feverish. Try to breathe deeply through your mouth." I followed her instruction.

Nineteen weeks meant two things.

The first and most important was that there was no way the child was Luke's. It was Jake's, and had been all along. I had almost killed our child, my child, the one I had always wanted.

The second was that in the past four months I had drank too much alcohol. I had probably _already_ killed Jake's child.

But even through my self-loathing I felt happiness that it wasn't that man's. It was Jake's. But what did this mean? Was I going to go back to him?

"Are you feeling stable?"

I nodded and slowly opened my eyes, "I think I just went into shock."

She eyed me oddly.

"Do you have any twins in your family?"

I cleared my throat and tried to get myself under control. The doctor motioned for the technician to place the transducer back on my stomach.

"Jake's sister was a twin. My dad is a twin. My mom's sister had twins." I struggled to think of all my family in Tennessee. There were probably more but I didn't feel like trying to figure it out.

"Well," She smiled, eyeing the screen, "In about five months there will be another set of twins in your families."

I eyed her, deadpanned. She looked disappointed at my lack of enthusiasm. But there was no way I had twins. I could barely carry one child into the second trimester, never mind two.

"I don't have twins."

She frowned.

"Yes you do. Look at the screen. There are two placentas, two babies. Fraternal twins." I forced my neck to turn. On the screen, the clear image of two amber-hued babies sent my heart pounding. At first all I could see was one. But as the technician moved the transducer around I spotted another head, another torso, another set of arms and another set of legs. I looked away, my hopes already starting to soar. They were beautiful, and I had killed them.

"How do fraternal twins happen?" I asked softly.

"Hyperovulation usually, which can be caused by fertility drugs. You ovulated two eggs, and both were fertilized at the same time. These babies will be no more alike than two siblings."

"Nineteen weeks." I repeated. The doctor nodded. I continued, "Just the other night I felt them move for the first time. Or at least I _think_ I did."

"That's wonderful! That's right on track. Between fifteen weeks and now is when most women feel them move. Look at Baby B," She said suddenly. I turned and she pointed at something. The technician moved it again. "Baby B" was sucking her thumb.

"Aww," The technician cooed, "would you just look at that."

I suddenly felt my panic rising. The babies could feel it too because I felt a small, light flutter inside me. I didn't look at the monitor to see what it was.

"Dr. Tiber," I choked out, "I think I killed them! I killed them." I sobbed so hard the technician had to move the transducer off me.

"I'll get your portraits," she murmured, then walked out. The doctor looked confused. She wiped the gel off my stomach and took my hand.

"You didn't kill them. You just saw them. They have perfect heartbeats and are perfectly developed for nineteen weeks. I know you've had a bad medical history with—"

"No!" I took my hand out of hers and covered my face in what could only be shame. "I drank alcohol. I got drunk twice while I was pregnant. I didn't know though! I didn't know! If I would have I wouldn't of…" I stopped because that was a lie. I would have, but only if it wasn't Jake's. I wished I was strong enough that who the father was didn't matter. I wished I could have thought the father was Luke and just said to myself that it didn't matter. That it was still my child, it was still half me. But I wasn't strong and I had willingly hurt my child. No, my children.

She sighed, "If it was during the first semester and not during the second the risks of premature birth and fetal alcohol syndrome are greatly reduced."

"The second time was just recently." I mumbled.

"Well, I didn't notice any developmental problems. We can't predict if you'll have premature birth, or if the child will have FAS, but we can hope. I'm going to prescribe extreme bed rest for you. You don't need to get up except to bathe or use the restroom. With your previous complications you were already at a high risk, but this has made the risk even higher." She grew silent for a moment. "My sister drank all the way through her pregnancy and she has a perfectly healthy baby. I drank once during mine and my son has a mental disability. It's the fall of the cards when they land." I tried to find something to say but she continued for me, "You'll need to come in for checkups frequently. And for God's sake woman, you need to eat. I want your weight up to one thirteen the next time you come in. I can tell something has happened in your personal life that is causes you to not eat like you should, but I want you to get that under control so you can make these babies as healthy as possible. You need to go to the pharmacy and pick up some prenatal vitamins. Any questions?"

_Yes. What in the world am I going to do?_

"No. Thank you. When should I come in again?"

"I'm scheduling you for another appointment next week, is that alright?"

_I'm not going anywhere now. _"Yes, that's fine."

She started to gather things but stopped.

"OH! I forgot to ask. Did you want to know the babies genders?"

My response slipped out before I could even think about it. "Yes."

She smiled. "Two girls." With her papers in her arms, she left me alone in the room.

This had to be a mistake. This couldn't be right. I wasn't supposed to have little girls, fate didn't want me to. I thought I'd already established that. But now I'm pregnant with two little girls? Two, just like the two that didn't make it? It was too good to be true. But then again, the word good had been absent from my life for so long that anything that could be characterized as good would be too good.

I started to think that maybe this would make everything alright. Maybe this would turn my life around. Maybe I could go back to Jake and Cole and we could all be a happy family. But as soon as I thought that I remembered what I had done. They would not live. I would kill two more daughters.

I could not go back to Jake. I could not get his hopes up only to have them and me die right in front of his eyes. No, I would have to stay here. I would do everything to keep them healthy. And if by some miracle they lived, I would go back to Jake. I would try to make things work. If they died, I would too and Jake never has to hurt.

But one word was wiggling its way into my resolution. Luke.

He was going to kill me, and I was going to let him. If I all the sudden decided I wanted to live he was going to try that much harder. He couldn't hurt them. But what if he killed me before I could get the babies to Jake? Jake would have to know about them so he could take care of them.

I slid off the bed. The technician entered and handed me an envelope with a smile. I followed her out in a daze.

When I got into my car and drove away, I kept looking out the back window, paranoia creeping up my spine like a spider. The last thing I wanted to do was eat but the words of Dr. Tiber made me pull into a grocery store parking lot. I went in and bought by the food pyramid, not by my appetite. When I was sure I had enough to keep the babies healthy, I went to check out the medicine isle. They had prenatal vitamins. I bought the kind I always did and checked out, feeling eyes on me the whole time.

My drive to the inn was unremarkable. I parked and hurried up to my room. I ate as much as I could force myself to for dinner and then laid down. The room was just one big room and a bathroom, but it had a spot to be used for a living room and a spot to be used for a kitchen. Moving around in it wasn't that difficult. The only thing I was worried about was doing laundry. Walking up and down the stairs to wash my clothes wasn't going to be good for the babies. I'd have to figure that out somehow.

But now, as the sun set and silence settled, I had to tell Jake. At first I considered calling him, but that wouldn't be healthy for either of us. I would email him and tell him that the babies were his. I plugged the laptop charger into the wall and started it up. I went to my email and quickly started to compose another.

* * *

**To: Jake Ryan**

**From: Miley Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: [No Subject]**

I'm sorry I didn't answer your call. I just got back from the doctor. I got an ultrasound. They say I'm 19 weeks along, which means it's impossible for the babies to not be yours. I don't know how I missed it and I feel terrible that I did. They say it's twins too, fraternal. Apparently the fertility drugs cause hyperovulation or something like that and two babies were made at once…two girls, to be exact. I'm really tired so I'm going to go to bed now. I love you.

* * *

The email was terrible but I had no idea how to make the words explain how I felt. I hesitated before sending it. I shut the laptop and set it beside me on the bed. I stared at the window and breathed. The envelope with the pictures rested on the nightstand and I felt restless fluttering in my stomach. One kick, another…as if they were speaking Morse code. _You're not alone. _

I placed a hand over them, my heart reminding me of the cratered moon.

_I will be soon. And it is all my fault. _

The word sorry was ripe on my lips and stale in my mind as I drifted to sleep.


	29. Come

**A/n: **So, so, so, so, so, so, SO, sorry for the long wait. I have many understandable reasons (excuses) for why this is late but I'll just let you guys get on with what you clicked this for. Thank you for all the reviews!! Thanks to my betas as usual :D

* * *

**"There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it." -- Oscar Wilde **

* * *

"_Well, it looks like you're ready to go!" The doctor smiled as she helped me into the wheelchair. I smiled back and folded my hands in my lap. I was so excited to get home, to be out of this building and have privacy again. The glass door slid open and Cole came bouncing in, his smile more contagious than anything else. I moved my hand and motioned for him. He hugged me gently and I hugged him back. _

"_Be careful," Jake quietly reminded Cole. Cole gave him dubious look. _

"_I'm not gonna punch her, Dad." He rolled his eyes. Jake and I exchanged a look and Jake laughed, tousling his son's hair. The nurse walked forward timidly. _

"_It's time to go. Would you like to go get your daughter, Mr. Ryan?" _

_He grasped my hand and squeezed it. We smiled at each other for a moment and then he followed the nurse. They were about to walk out of the door when another doctor blocked their path. It was the doctor from the nursery. Her face was shocked and solemn. I wondered what had happened to her. I hoped she was alright. _

_She pulled the nurse aside__,__ and they talked in whispers. __The nurse gasped, and I felt a small prick of fear stab at the pit of my stomach.__ I shot a panicked look at Jake__,__ but he wasn't moving. I watched his shoulders and realized he was holding his breath. _

"_Jake," I called out in panic, "Jake, what's wrong?" _

_His head jerked to mine__,__ and the look on his face was one I will never forget. His eyes were wide and his face white, the look of terror. _

"_What's wrong Dad? What's happening?" Cole took my hand while he talked to Jake. The doctor was talking to just Jake now, and my heart stopped._

"_Jake," I choked out, pushing myself out of the wheelchair, "Jake, what's wrong?" I walked toward him on shaky, weak legs and shrugged off the nurse's hand as she tried to restrain me. I touched his bicep with feeble hands__,__ and as my hand closed around it, the muscles tightened even more. He was still holding his breath. I glanced at his face, my breathing way too fast. His expression swam around my mind__,__ and I couldn't breathe anymore. The doctor looked at me and I had to be asleep because this had to be my nightmare. This couldn't be reality. I couldn't really be falling so fast. _

"_Miley," His voice sounded so far away and my hand fell off Jake's arm. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry.---

* * *

_A sharp knock on the door wrenched my mind from memory to reality, something that was an improvement. I couldn't remember the last time reality had been above memory. I pulled myself upright and pushed the blankets off me. I slid onto the floor and jumped as my foot came in contact with something cold and wet. I sighed as I realized I'd kicked over the glass of water sitting on the floor beside the bed. I maneuvered around it and walked carefully to the door. I had no idea who it could be.

The lack of a peephole made me clear my throat. "Who is it?" I asked. The responding silence told me all I needed to hear.

I backed away from the door as quietly as I could. I backed up until my legs hit the bed. I sat down, and like a small child, crawled under the covers. I crawled down to the middle of the bed and curled up into a ball. Only echoes of the noise around me filtered through and the knocking sounded like the gentle, impatient tapping of fingernails against the top of a grand piano. I pretended I was there, in a studio, recording a song. Maybe it would be going smoothly, or maybe I would have decided the melody needed a little tweaking. Maybe Cole and Jake would come by for lunch. Maybe the producer and I would get into a quarrel that would end with both of us proud of what we had settled with.

After a while, the noise stopped and a silence louder than the knocking settled over me. I didn't move from my spot until about five minutes later. My ears were buzzing with the white noise and the cold air rushed into my eager lungs.

Just then, a familiar jingle came from my laptop, alerting me of a new email. I froze and bit my lip, trying to decide if I should read it right now. One part of me told myself that I should wait until I was more emotionally stable, but the other part reminded me that that day probably won't ever come.

I moved across the bed and reached onto the other nightstand. I pulled the laptop into my lap.

I breathed deeply and clicked into my inbox. It was from Jake, just as I knew it would be. I stared at the subject for what felt like hours before I clicked the message. I focused on reminding myself that this was the way it had to be as the message loaded.

* * *

**To: Miley Ryan**

**From: Jake Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: Re: [No Subject]**

It's fine, I understand. Don't feel terrible about missing that, I missed it too. I feel even worse about getting you drunk now. If you're 19 weeks…that means you've had alcohol…two times? What does that mean? Did you ask the doctor? I'm so sorry. I know you're probably beating yourself up over that right about now. Please don't blame yourself. It's not like you knew. Accidents happen. I'm sure they are just fine. Have they kicked yet? Two girls. It's almost like a blessing, don't you think? Have you thought of names? Did you get ultrasound pictures? How do twins look in the womb? Were their heartbeats good? I miss you. How are you doing? Do you feel okay? Are you eating? Is the morning sickness getting better? Are you staying somewhere comfortable? Sorry I'm asking so many questions. I just feel like I'm missing so much and I want to be there with you. It makes me feel uneasy to not be there. I guess what I'm really trying to ask is: are you coming home? I love you.

* * *

I was almost surprised to see myself smiling. And for a moment I felt excited about this. Two little girls. Jake was right. They will be okay. But the light air of the room pushed the memory of the soft tapping upon the door into my face and I extinguished my hope like the temporary flame it was.

I pressed the reply button, because I needed to talk to him and this was the only way my precautious self would let me. I didn't want him to hurt. I didn't want to hurt him anymore. I wanted him to be so happy, happier than he had ever been. But I didn't know how to do that. I couldn't do that.

* * *

**To: Jake Ryan**

**From: Miley Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: Re: Re: [No Subject]**

But it wasn't your body. I've been through pregnancies so much that it's unacceptable that I missed it. I'm an idiot. Don't blame yourself, you knew even less than I did. I asked the doctor and she said it could go either way with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. She said she knew someone—her sister I think—who drank all the time and her child is fine. But she said that she drank once, or something sparse like that, and her child has it. With our luck in this department I'm sure you can probably guess what's probably going to happen. I'm so sorry, Jake. I'm sorry for hurting you and I'm sorry for killing your children and I'm sorry that I can't be happy and make you happy. I wish that I could. It's all I want. I would give my life to make you happy. When did I fall so in love with you? One minute my life is fine without you and the next it seems you are my life. It happened so suddenly. I think I must have subconsciously fallen hard for you when you dumped a milkshake/smoothie on my head when I was hiding in that trashcan. That was such a long time ago. Do you remember that? I do. I remember the first time I saw you and I want to remember the last. I want you to be just as happy in the last as you were in the first. I don't want to be without you but would it make you happy in the long run? You always made me happy. You gave me everything I ever wanted and more. I want to do that for you. And that's why I left you, as much as I didn't want to, and that's why I can't come home, Jake. I'm sorry but I can't. Me being there hurts you.

They have kicked. They are much gentler than Cole, but which baby wasn't? I wish you were here to feel it. I haven't thought of names and I don't want to. How could I? If they aren't fine I don't want to have to break down in tears every time I hear the name I christened them. I did get pictures. If you want, I can mail you them. The ultrasounds these days are so detailed it's amazing. Twins look…cramped, honestly. I feel bad for them. Hopefully my stomach will get larger though so they have more room to move around. The heartbeats were very good. I miss you too, but you already know that. I'm doing okay. I feel early pregnancy sucky. Yes, I'm eating. And yes the morning sickness was much better this morning. I'm very comfortable here. I'm going to need to hire a maid though, because I'm on strict bed rest. It makes me feel uneasy too. I love you more.

* * *

I sent it quickly, before I backed out. I felt lighter with all of that said to him, but somehow even worse because telling him these things might only hurt him more. I felt so much happier when I was with him, even over this artificial way. And that scared me.

How could I ever leave when all I ever wanted is to stay?

* * *

**TWO MONTHS LATER: **

Nobody except Jake and I know this, but a week before my twenty-sixth birthday, we broke up. It was a mutual decision that we made in the wake of more pain than we both knew what to do with. We considered the possibility that maybe it would hurt less if we didn't see each other every day. We reminded each other of her, and that just made dealing with the fact that she was a stillborn that much harder. He packed his bags, hugged Cole goodbye, and was gone by the morning. It took us one day to realize that it only made the pain worse. It took us three days to admit it to each other. I was in the process of calling him when his car pulled into the driveway. We reunited and made a silent promise that we'd never, ever be without each other again. Neither of us have mentioned that day since it happened. All of our family thought he was on a business trip, while we both knew that in reality he was close to the shore of giving up.

But in a way, I'm glad that happened. Not that those days didn't suck, because they really did. But it was only a matter of time before we blew up and tried to call our relationship quits. I was thankful that when we had, it had been in a calm, rational way instead of one fueled by anger. We needed to learn what it was like without each other, and that was probably the safest situation to have learned that.

And now we were learning again. Except it was a little less hard this time, because we were still together. He was still my husband and I was still his wife. I was just his wife who had a breakdown.

I moved into an apartment in this same, small town. It had been mostly furnished when I'd arrived (the previous owners won the lottery, apparently, and left their old furniture for bigger, better things). I had felt better about renting it when I learned I wouldn't also have to buy furniture for a place I wouldn't even be in for a year. I was already spending too much on doctor's visits (our health insurance didn't cover medical expenses outside of California), and any way to lower the spending was a good way. The furniture was actually in very good shape and I couldn't imagine why these people would want to just get rid of their furniture to waste lottery winnings on more.

I was emailing most my family weekly, or daily in Jake's case. Lana was far in her pregnancy, and it was surprisingly fun to hear about how she was doing. She was just as excited and terrified as a new mother should be. As sad I was for myself, I was just as happy for her. At least someone could have a successful pregnancy in this family.

Cole and I emailed almost as much as Jake and I. I had learned more about him in these past two months than I had in the past years raising him. Currently we were talking about college, something so extremely normal that it almost made all this abnormality disappear. I was selfishly encouraging his college preferences that were in California. But I think those are the ones he really wants to go to anyway, so it's not like I was shoving something onto him that he didn't want. He loved California a whole lot more than I had at that age. But then again—he was raised there. Although he did admit when we went back (I didn't have the heart to change that statement to "if we went back") he would miss the snow. Jake wasn't as snow-promoting. He hated it, something I never knew about him. It was very interesting to learn something you never knew about the person you've lived with for fifteen years.

Lilly and Jackson seemed to be paired up lately. They both emailed me around the same times, and were M.I.A at the same times. Actually, the last emails I got from both of them detailed fights (in Jackson and Mallory's case) and tears (in Lilly and Isaak's) in their relationships. Only time would tell but I think someone would have to be stupid not to realize what was happening. I wished Lilly would email me back and give me the details. Something as trivial as gossip was so welcome right now.

My dad and Alana were impossible to talk to. All they did was talk to me like they were either plagiarizing Hallmark cards or they were repeating what the Suicide Help Hotline told them to say. If I read one more line about how bumps in the road only bring us home, I'm going to have these babies and shoot myself. Which hopefully wouldn't be too much longer. The having the babies part, not the shooting myself part. I was 27 weeks along (that's 6 months for those who don't speak pregnancy) so I had about 13 weeks to go, give or take two. My projected due date was November eleventh. The cesarean section was loosely planned for that day. They were doing very well, but I was on even stricter bed rest to prevent premature labor. The fact that I was almost at the seventh month concerned me. I had carried Cole's sisters to full term, but no telling if these babies would decide to make their arrival before they were supposed to come, like Cole had. Although, after explaining that situation to Malone (my doctor), she came to the conclusion that premature birth didn't run in my family. Apparently having a murderer about to beat you to death puts you in enough stress to go into labor.

I had to hire a maid because of the bed rest. Her name was Susan, and she was one of the nicest people I've ever met. She had her own children at home, two of which were also fraternal twins, a boy and a girl. It was nice to have someone to express my concerns to who had actually experienced the pregnancies, and we'd become friends quickly. She was a firm believer that these babies would be born completely healthy. There was something so comforting about her that I actually felt myself believing her. Maybe it had to do with the fact she reminded me so much of my mother. It made me wonder if this was how my mother would have acted if she were here with me today. I wonder how she would have felt to see me like this. I was glad she didn't have to.

Since I'd moved into this apartment, I hadn't heard from Luke. I knew he was probably just making me feel a false sense of security before he struck, but it was hard to believe he would. The sun was always shining in a way that made everything seem better. I even felt better. The stronger the babies grew, the stronger my heart grew. And with a strong heart, there was happiness for one of the first times in a very long time. It felt so good to be giving life again, instead of taking it. In fact, my new found optimism had even gone so far as to ask Jake and Cole to be here when the babies came. Susan and Malone had to be right. And it was not fair to Jake to not let him be there to see his children born just because of a risk.

It was currently three A.M. and sleep wasn't coming. The babies decided it might be fun to have a kicking contest. Baby A was currently winning, but probably only because she had the best aim at my ribs. I wished more than anything that Jake was here. He'd be able to get them to settle down. I sang to them, I talked to them, I played music for them, I patted and rubbed the outside of their home, but nothing worked. I gave up and watched TV while they played soccer with my organs.

Around five A.M. I got an email. I sat up and pulled the laptop over to me. I left it sitting on the other side of the bed most the time, because it was most convenient. I clicked the areas to lead me to the inbox blindly and clicked the unread message.

* * *

**To: Miley Ryan**

**From: Jake Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Ireland **

Don't forget Greece! It's just as beautiful. I think after all this is over a small house in the countryside of Greece would be perfect. Even if only for a year. Remember the last time we went to Greece? That was so much fun and we were only there for two days. There's just something so peaceful about it, don't you think? Besides, I think we'll be so stressed with two new babies that we'll need all the relaxing nature we can get.

Do you know who Cole's constantly talking to? I swear, the only time I see him off the phone is when he's sleeping. He's even taken to talking when he's eating. I hope he doesn't talk when he's using the bathroom…but who really knows? I've asked him but he just changes the subject quickly and very well I might add. It's obviously a girl. Do you think it's Emily? If so, we called that years ago. Poor Oliver. Poor Robby. You know about five or six Christmases ago, after he drank too much whiskey, he admitted that I was the last person he would have wanted you to fall for. Apparently a "nice, Christian, country boy" was who he had been counting on to have as a son-in-law. Should have known you better. I can't picture you with some goody-good 'yes ma'am, no ma'am' man. Of course it's impossible to picture you with anyone else but me. You deserve someone that's so sexy it's practically impossible, and I'm the only one that fits that criteria. I wonder who I'll be counting on having for son-in-laws when the girls grow up. Maybe doctors. Responsible, smart doctors. Ugh, thinking about them getting married is scary.

How was your day? Oh! I almost forgot. You'll never guess who called me asking for advice today. Jackson. He called Oliver too. The poor guy's desperate. Apparently he's ended things with that bitch and likes someone else. He wanted to know if he should tell her or just ignore it because she's with someone else. Of course, Oliver and I had a good laugh that he was asking two guys' opinions on that. Sounded more like a question you and Lilly could answer better. Hmmm, I wonder who the person he likes could be. Oliver put sixty dollars on my sister; I put sixty on Lilly. Want in on this bet? I think we're about to be a whole lot richer. Speaking of, have you been talking to Oliver? I should probably go now. I love you

I smiled and patted my stomach.

"Your daddy is gossiping," I giggled to them. I found it a little funnier than it actually was, and I had to laugh for a few minutes before I could reply. And then once I had the new email opened, I pictured Oliver and Jake gossiping with Jackson over the phone and I collapsed into laughter again. Once my irrational laughter calmed, I was surprised to find the babies had too.

* * *

**To: Jake Ryan**

**From: Miley Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Ireland **

Greece does sound beautiful. Probably just as beautiful as Ireland, if not more. I think that is something we need. Cole would like living in a different country for a year or so, and I think it would be very good for us and the babies.

I don't know for sure, but I think it's Caitlyn Mongelli. You remember her, don't you? You know Claire, Oliver's girlfriend? She's Claire's best friend Alyssa Mongelli's daughter. Emily and Caitlyn are close now that Emily and the little wh—Um, Emily and Lila aren't friends anymore. She's very pretty and I'm sure she's got Cole around her finger. And seeing how you explain their talking habits, she has.

My dad will get over it. He's lucky to have you as a son-in-law. And marry some shy country boy? Never. What would I do with the lack of ego in my life? I'm interested in seeing how you act when they start dating. It's going to be hilarious.

My day was boring, as usual. If you saw me now you'd have to find a bigger mountain than Kilimanjaro to call me. I seriously look like I did when I was 9 months, but I'm only 6. I'm actually scared of how big I'm going to get once I'm near the end. I already feel like I'm using a bottle of lotion a night on my skin. If I get stretch marks after all this, I'm going to be pissed off.

I can just picture you and Oliver gossiping with Jackson like little old ladies in a salon. I can't believe Jackson, my annoying older brother, was asking you and Oliver for advice. And my money is so on Lilly. He's liked her since…well probably about as long as we've liked each other. Why would Oliver think it was Lana? Is something going on that I don't know about? Not to mention that'd be a little weird…she's his sister-in-law. Oliver's mind works in very…special ways sometimes. And we don't talk that much, but we emailed a few times. Why? Is something going on? I love you too.

* * *

Once I sent it, I turned the TV off and closed my laptop, ready for sleep. I turned on my side and was out before a single thought managed to rampage through my mind.

I woke late in the afternoon, so late I felt guilty even though I had no place to be. The first thing I heard was Susan's singing as she did the dishes. I felt the familiar twinge of shame that she was doing all my work for me. But she needed a job, and I needed a way to keep my babies safe.

"Hi Susan!" I called as I worked on getting up out of the bed.

"Good morning!" She yelled cheerfully. Once I was sitting up I placed my feet on the floor and unsteadily rose. I went to the dresser and pulled out new clothes. I carefully walked into the bathroom, and after I used the restroom, I showered for an hour. Afterwards I went about rubbing a bottle of cacao butter lotion that smelled into my skin. It was three P.M. by the time I was done with everything.

Once I was dressed, I walked into the kitchen. Susan was in the living room watching TV (something I'd encouraged her to do from the moment she came here to help. She didn't get much time to herself at home) and she smiled at me as I walked in.

I opened the fridge and pulled out ingredients for a salad with chicken.

"Want some?" I called to her. She shook her head but I made enough for both of us anyway. And just as I thought, she changed her mind once it was made. I grabbed our bowls and two bottles of water from the fridge and sat down beside her on the couch. We chatted easily while we watched an old movie. She insisted on making me dinner before she left and she also brought me a blanket and my laptop. I wasn't going to move back to the bed until bedtime.

The apartment felt colder once I was alone again. I was thankful for the blanket she'd thought to bring me, and I spread it out over me. I set the laptop on the coffee table and yawned as I opened it. My dad and Lana had replied, and I replied to them before I turned my attention back on the TV.

After a few minutes of flipping, I found a _Zombie High_ marathon. I watched it for a few hours. I was watching it when I heard a key being inserted into the doorknob.

I frowned. Susan wasn't supposed to come back until tomorrow morning. I nervously reached for the phone.

"Susan?" I called. The doorknob turned and I didn't hear Susan reply. I dialed 911. My finger hovered over the call button.

The door pushed open and my worst nightmare in all his glory entered. I pressed send. He hurried across the room and ripped it out of my hands before it even rang. My head raced with statistics. If the babies were born now, they'd have about an eighty-five percent chance of living. That wasn't good enough.

"Don't kill me," I begged. He sat down in the armchair as if he sat there every day. My heartbeat was so irregular that it was disturbing the babies and I felt them stirring. I could hardly breathe.

He smiled a smile that almost looked kind.

"Before we jump to any decisions, let's bask in the nostalgia. So many things are alike in this situation and the one so many years ago. You going into labor would just complete it."

I bit my lip and tried to keep the words from escaping my mind.

"Only if you get to have your ass beaten again."

His smile disappeared. He leaned forward.

"Are you blind or just stupid? I have beaten you and your family every single time. And I will win again."

I sniffed. "No you won't. I'm going to die either way. Jake and Cole know that. Killing me won't be winning."

He leaned his head back. "I know that. I'm not an idiot. I'm going to make you wish you were dead."

I felt anger rising in me.

"Well congratulations because you made that happen a long time ago! You must be an idiot not to realize that."

He laughed and shook his head. "No. You still had things to live for. You still had people to live for." He leaned forward and patted the top of my stomach, "You still had dreams and wishes and aspirations. But you won't."

His words made me shake and want to cry. I paused to get a hold of myself before I replied.

"You can't hurt them. You don't even know where they are. I don't even know where they are, so I know you can't."

He smirked and stood up slowly. He walked to the door and right before he walked out he said one thing.

"Call him. I'm sure 42nd West St. Otis Street in Richmond, Virginia will sound familiar to him."

And he was gone. I breathed deeply and tried to keep my blood pressure under control. The babies already felt my distress and it was making them anxious. I didn't even feel the kicks. I reached for the laptop, but I knew by the time he emailed me back it would be too late. I shakily stood up and focused on not falling as I grabbed the phone he'd taken away. I dialed the number I knew by heart so quickly that I almost didn't remember doing it. It rang twice before he picked up.

"Miley?" He seemed doubtful. I gasped for air.

"Where are you and Cole, Jake? Where are you staying?" I tried to get the level of my voice to make it sound as though I was okay, but it was too late.

"What happened? Are you okay? What's wrong?" He panicked.

"Please just tell me, Jake. Where are you?"

"Richmond." He sounded confused.

I cursed and bit my lip. I wanted nothing more than him to be here right now. I wanted him to hug me and say that everything was going to be okay.

"42nd West St. Otis Street?" I whispered.

"What is going on?" He asked, his voice pleading.

I fought back hysterics.

"Jake, you and Cole have to go somewhere else. Go out of the country. Go hide somewhere. Please. Luke knows where you are. He is going to kill you. Please go as soon as you can. I couldn't handle it if something happened to you guys."

He practically had an aneurysm. "Luke? Luke is there? You saw him? Did he hurt you? Are you okay? Jesus Christ!"

"I'm fine. Please just go somewhere safe. That's all you can do for me now."

There was a pause and maybe for the first time he refused me of something.

"No. No! I am not going out of the country when that…that…evil bastard is there! I'm coming there. Don't try to stop me. I'm coming. You are not facing this alone."

This time I couldn't stop the panic.

"NO! You can't bring yourself and Cole into this! I am facing this alone!"

His voice got a hard edge to it I've never heard directed at me.

"Over my dead body."

"Jake you can't do that to Cole! How can you bring our son into danger like this? Please don't do this!"

I couldn't stop from crying then. The only thing running through my mind was how terrible it would be when Jake came here and was killed. I knew that was probably Luke's plan in the first place. To have Jake and Cole come here and be murdered and make me feel guilty.

"Are you crying?" Jake asked the hard edge in his voice gone. I ignored him.

"I won't bring Cole. I'd never bring him into this fight. Oliver can watch him. I was already planning on coming down there before the surgery to make sure you were okay, and Oliver was going to fly here to watch him. Well actually Oliver, Claire, Emily, Alyssa, and her daughter." He continued.

For a minute I wondered why they would all come. "You can't just leave him with Oliver and his girlfriend, and you can't come here! Please don't Jake, please! I have everything under control! This is just what he wants!"

"You've known Oliver for years! You know he'll take care of Cole. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But I can't leave you there. If I was stuck in an apartment and Luke was there what would you do?"

I fell silent then because we both know what I would do. I sniffed.

"I don't want you to get hurt."

His voice softened, "I don't want you to get hurt either. That's why I'm coming." I wiped my eyes and he continued. "Now, are you going to tell me where you are or am I going to have to call the CIA?"

I laughed weakly.

"You better make sure my son is safe." I paused and then recited my address to him.

"I'll get on a plane as soon as possible. I love you."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I know. I love you too. Please be careful."

I could almost see his smile, "Always am, Mom."

"Shut up. I'm serious. Fly Delta."

"Okay. Don't worry. I will fly Almighty Delta." We both laughed and it felt so good to be talking that I almost forgot all the worries.

We said goodbye again, and I hung up the phone. And almost instantly, the babies resumed their game of organ soccer. From the TV I heard the voice of Jake so many years ago.

"_Dudes, I slayed you once looks like I'm gonna have to slay you again!" _


	30. Connect

**A/n: **Thank you guys so much for the reviews!! Fast update for once! Yay! Thanks to my lovely betas, as usual. Hope you all enjoy the chapter!

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** "My strength and my weakness are twins in the same womb." -- Marge Piercy

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**

**COLE'S POV:**

Dad stuffed two shirts into his bag and I wondered if he knew he was grabbing clothes out of the laundry basket.

"Well, is she okay?" I demanded, trying to get my questions answered while his mind was all over the place. I wanted to call Caitlyn back, but from the look on his face I knew this was not the time. He'd come running into my room talking about having to go see Mom and that I was going to stay with Oliver. I didn't know what was going on. She had left, right? So why was he going there? I could only assume something bad had happened. But we'd just talked yesterday.

"I hope so. I think." Dad muttered. He stuffed his toothbrush into the bag and we both jumped when the phone rang. He walked quickly into the kitchen to answer it and I followed.

"Did something happen with the babies?" I pressed. He shook his head and snatched the phone off the wall.

"Hello?" He impatiently inquired. I was getting extremely pissed off. He can't just leave without telling me what's going on. He can't refuse to tell me what's wrong. She may be his wife, but she's my mother.

"Yes. Umm," He frantically opened drawers and pushed around papers on the table before grabbing the one he needed. I glared at him while he read off directions to whom I assumed was Oliver. I was about to grab the phone from him and command I get an answer when my phone beeped. I sighed and pulled it out of my pocket. The screen alerted me I had a new text from Emily.

**What the hell is going on? **

So I wasn't the only one in the dark. Great. I replied quickly and my dad ended the phone call at the same time. I stood up.

"Hey, paternal figure, can you at least tell me why you are rushing off and leaving me with Oliver?" I called, my irritation leaking through every syllable. He turned around and quickly sat down at the table. I sat down across from him. Finally, some damn answers.

"I'm sorry. You're right, you deserve to know. But I don't want you to worry. Everything is under control." He made a move to stand up and I glared with such venom he sat back down.

"It's obviously not under control. And like I'm not going to worry when you're frantically running out of here like the Spanish Armada is after you. I wish you'd stop treating me like I'm ten; it's really starting to piss me off."

We glared at each other over the salt and pepper shakers for what seemed like minutes. Finally, he sighed and his face relaxed.

"Fine. I guess I do treat you like a little kid." He paused and seemed to be thinking hard about something. "Do you remember when your mother and I told you about what happened to us all those years ago?"

I nodded slowly, feeling slow anger boiling at the thought of the person who had tried to kill both my parents and turn me into the common Harry Potter. Only more handsome.

"Well, he's not as dead as we all hoped and prayed he was, and he's been in contact with her. So obviously, because of her bed rest, I have to go there to make sure she's safe. But I'm sure everything is fine. You don't need to worry. Once I make sure everything is safe, Oliver is going to fly up there with you and drop you off. This is just a precaution."

I couldn't help but feel angry and insulted at the way I was being treated. Like I couldn't take care of myself or anyone else. I should go; they might need me. I could bust that freak up easily.

"Let me go. I could help." I begged. It felt wrong to stay here getting babysat by Oliver when I could be there helping protect my family.

Dad smiled and reached across the table to clap my shoulder. I glared.

"I'm not being cute. Stop smiling. I'm serious. You guys might need me."

"I know you aren't. I know you could help. I'm not trying to be condescending. But I don't think having you in danger would do your mother any good, Cole. Trust me." He replied in a voice that—for someone not being condescending—sounded very patronizing. But I had a good feeling I could convince him.

"She'll just bitch for a while about it, but she'll see soon enough that I can take care of myself. Please." I kept my tone calm and rational.

"No. I'm sorry. I promised her that I would keep you safe, and that isn't keeping you safe. You will have fun with Oliver and Claire. Emily and Caitlyn are your age. They're your friends, right?"

I blanched in surprise. My confusion took over my face before I had a chance to hide it.

"Caitlyn? Caitlyn Mongelli? Why would she be there?" I asked slowly. Even her name made me want to smile.

He seemed confused too.

"You've been talking on the phone with her for more hours than I want to know every single day, and you didn't know that she and her mother are staying with Oliver and his girlfriend?" He asked slowly. "What do you talk about?"

I flushed in embarrassment but worked to keep that emotion hidden. I hedged around his question.

"It never came up, I guess…" I really had to work to keep a smile off my face. Knowing Caitlyn was going to be there cheered up the whole staying-with-Oliver thing very much. I slowly stood up from the table, my smile sneaking through a little.

"I understand, Dad. I'll just go stay with Oliver like a good kid." I started to walk away.

"Hey!" He called me back. I stopped and turned around rapidly, eager to call Caitlyn and demand if she knew we were about to be living with each other. He studied my expression and then groaned.

"Get over here. I was hoping we weren't going to have to have this talk, but it looks like we are." I frowned, hoping by "this talk" he meant he was going to explain global warming or why Pluto can't be a planet.

I sat back down. He seemed embarrassed which tipped me off to what talk this was going to me.

"Dad, this really isn't necessary. Really. I've learned my lesson from the whole Lila ordeal." I started to stand. He glared in a way that made me sit back down quickly.

"Okay, obviously our last talk didn't go very well—"

I cut him off. "Last talk? You handed me a book while Mom ran off into the kitchen with her face as red as a tomato. That hardly counts as a talk."

He defended himself, "Hey now, that isn't true. I talked over some parts of that book with you. And then afterwards I talked to you about how abstinence is next to holiness."

"That's cleanliness."

He frowned. "My mom always said it was both."

I smirked, "And your Mom's talk worked out so efficiently." I pointed at myself.

He sighed, "Okay, I'm allowed to be a hypocrite. I'm a Dad. Besides, I've already explained that that wasn't the best choice. You never let me live anything down," He grumbled.

"I've learned my lesson. Really. No sex until I'm married. Gotcha. Glad we had this talk." I jumped up.

"Cole."

"Dammit." I sat back down. He struggled to form a sentence.

"Look…I know that sometimes, when you like someone, and the situation arises…it's…difficult—"

"Oh for the love of God," I muttered.

"—to…uhh…you know, not do it. But you just have to always keep in mind what the consequences could be and remember that…it's not worth it." He nodded and seemed proud of his speech.

"Alright, Dad. Thanks. I will take that good piece of advice to the grave."

"I'm not done." He said firmly. "I know you really like this Caitlyn girl, and I know that Oliver probably won't care what you do as long as it doesn't involve his little girl, so I want you to think carefully about this talk and remember what I'm telling you. Just say no. Like you say no to drugs. Just, picture her as…a bag of marijuana or…cocaine and…and say no! Yeah. Do that."

He exhaled.

"What if I say yes to pot and cocaine?"

He looked like he was about to strangle me.

"Kidding, kidding!" I said quickly, fearing for my life.

There was a pause, and then he threw his hands up.

"I can see I'm fighting a losing battle here. Just use protection for God's sake, and don't let some bitch like Lila get you wrapped around her finger."

He stalked off angrily and I couldn't help but laugh. He was way more embarrassed than I was about this. He came out of the living room a few minutes later with his bags.

"You know you packed clothes from the dirty laundry pile, right?" I asked.

"SHIT!"

He stormed back into the room. By the time he was finished packing clean clothes, the doorbell rang. He jumped. I got a Coke from the fridge and opened it. He grabbed his bags and started over to the door, but then walked back over to me. He hugged me and for a moment I felt like a five year old again.

"Take care of yourself. Call if you need anything." He started toward the door and I hated to admit it, but I was going to miss him. Even if he did give terrible talks. He stopped halfway toward the door. He turned around.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He started walking but then stopped again. "Shit! I mean Jesus! Don't do anything Jesus wouldn't do!"

"Got it. Jesus. Bye Dad."

He walked all the way to the door before he stopped again. He seemed to be fighting with himself.

"Well this is awkward. Umm…" He tapped his fingers against the doorknob, "Well, I love you, son. Yeah. I do. And now you know. Okay. I'm going now." He opened the door.

His awkwardness made it even funnier and I really had to clench my fists to keep from laughing.

"Love you too, Dad. Even if you just told me to do something you would do. You make a great role model." I called out. Oliver and everyone came storming in, but all I could see was Caitlyn. She smiled at me and I felt my face catch on fire.

"NO!" I heard my Dad yell, "NOT ME! JESUS! JESUS IS YOUR ROLE MODEL! COLE, DID YOU HEAR ME?! JESUS!"

"Bye Dad!" I yelled.

Caitlyn walked up to me and smiled shyly.

"Hi, Cole."

I smiled back so widely my face hurt.

"Hi, Caitlyn."

Emily punched me in the arm. "Hey, Testosterone, come show me and Caitlyn where we're sleeping."

I smiled at Emily too, feeling the familiar confusion come over me. I offered my arms to them.

"I'll take you to your room, ladies." My English accent was pretty amazing. Caitlyn giggled and Emily sighed, but they both looped their arms in mine. I turned around before leading them down the hall to wave goodbye to my Dad again, but he was already gone.

* * *

**MILEY'S POV:**

"What did you need to talk to me about?" Susan asked. I readjusted the earphones over my stomach before I turned to her. She looked nervous and I felt bad.

"My husband is coming here. He should be here late today." I said slowly and I saw realization flash over her face. He would be here, so I wouldn't need her. She bit her lip and I thought about her kids at home and much she probably needed this job.

I continued, "So, there will be twice the things to go out and buy and things to pick up. Of course your pay will be doubled, but I wanted to make sure you were okay with that. If not, I completely understand."

Her face broke out in a smile and I was glad I had changed what I was going to tell her.

"Yes! Oh, yes of course I'm okay with this! Victoria can finally get that new dress she wants for prom! Thank you so much!" She seemed to be bouncing with happiness and I couldn't help but smile. I felt bad for making her pick up after us, though. She was a smart woman. There had to be something else she was good at, something else she could do that would make her happier. But it was her life and if being a maid made her happy, then who was I to judge?

"Ooh I can make you two a nice dinner!" She exclaimed happily. She reached into her bag and pulled out a recipe book. "What's his favorite food?"

I smiled, "It changes like every week. Just make what sounds good to you."

She nodded and flipped rapidly through pages. She nodded to herself when she found the page she was looking for.

"I need to go the store for ingredients. Is that okay?"

I nodded.

"Oh, and have you seen my key? I think I left it here or something because it wasn't in my pocketbook…" She started looking through her purse one more time.

I felt my blood freeze for a moment. I hadn't seen it, but I was almost positive who had it.

"No, I haven't." I reached for my cell phone. "I'll talk to the landlord about getting the locks changed and a new key made."

"Okay. Sorry." She muttered guiltily.

"It's fine. It was an accident." Or not.

Once she was gone and I had convinced the landlord to change the locks, I leaned back against the couch and planned to let exhaustion force me into a nap. The music I'd fastened around my stomach had calmed the girls and now I wanted to rest.

I turned the lights out and closed my eyes. I pulled the blanket over me and tried to get comfortable. Once I was physically comfortable, I tried to make myself mentally. But I couldn't stop my fears and worrying from going through my mind. I knew if I didn't stop myself I'd lay here obsessing over things I can't change. The fact was: I didn't feel close to these babies. I knew that I loved them and that they were mine, but I couldn't stop the feeling that we weren't connecting. And I was worried that when I had them, I wouldn't be able to connect with them any more than I had now. Right now they were just the babies taking over my body that had powerful kicks. I knew it was probably because I wasn't letting myself think about how good a future with them would be, about how beautiful they are or what I would name them. I was thinking too critically. But I couldn't get myself to imagine a future that might never happen, or name babies that might never live. It would make them real. If I kept myself detached maybe I could convince myself they never existed when something bad happened.

My mind moved on to obsessing over the delivery. I'd never had a c-section before and Malone had scared the shit out of me when she was explaining how it worked. I knew I'd feel better with Jake there, but it was still frightening. Everything about having twins was frightening. I was honestly worried that if they got any larger I would either explode or my spine and pelvis would shatter like a sand dollar getting run over by a truck. Both were extremely frightening and ridiculous to think about. Skin stretches…bones…bend? My poor spine was going to come out of this pregnancy mangled like it was ravaged by some wild animal. I wonder if they make support shelves for pregnant bellies. I couldn't wait to have these babies and get my body back. Frankly, I felt like this body was the babies' and they were just letting me room there until I got a job. It's pretty weird when your babies are getting bigger than you. They were practically pushing me out of my own body. Susan said this would just make me appreciate the late night crying even more. Better to be sleep deprived in your normal body than rested in an uncomfortable one.

As if to prove my point, I was kicked sharply in the kidney. I was finding it very hard to see the beauty in pregnancy. Then it felt all weird, like they were kicking each other. I felt the movement but it wasn't directly hitting me. Both babies were breech so Baby B had a great kicking aim at Baby A's head. Oh the love sisters share.

"Hey," I pulled the earphones off and sat up. I poked my stomach, "Stop that right now. Stop fighting." They paused for a moment and then one of them (probably Baby B—she was proving to be the biggest troublemaker) gently prodded me with her foot. I placed my hand over where she'd just poked me and I gently pressed down. "It's nighty-night time. We're going to sleep. That means you girls, too. You can kick my organs and bones when we wake up. Got it?" I commanded firmly.

I couldn't stop a smile from flitting onto my face when they fell immobile. I kissed my hand and gently patted it on top of them (I would have kissed my stomach if I thought I could have. I didn't feel like toppling off the couch). "Good girls." I muttered.

I got back into my previous position and drifted off simply. In my dream my mother was sitting with me on a Ferris wheel and she wouldn't talk to me no matter what I did. We stopped at the top and she said one sentence to me: "Forget the possibilities of tomorrow and love what you have today." Then she climbed out and I tried to climb out but I couldn't. She walked away, and then I was in a delivery room and the same doctor from five years ago was there. She held my hand while I cried and all the while I was asking her why I was crying because I was still pregnant. She never answered me and I went on crying. Then, Malone came in and told me that I was never pregnant again, it was all a figment of my imagination. She had fueled it because my dad paid her to.

By the time I finally jerked awake, I was severely disturbed. My mind spun and I tried to separate dream from reality. I touched my stomach and knew that was not a figment of my imagination. It couldn't be. I breathed deeply. Stupid pregnancy freak dreams. Stupid apartment, stupid loneliness, stupid everything.

The girls seemed to realize it was wakey-time, and I wondered why they kicked so much. I think I was getting punished for the lack of chocolate in their diet. Girls and their chocolate.

I struggled to stand up. I missed the luxuries of being able to get up from a couch, being able to fully empty a bladder, oh, and being able to button pants.

Once I was up, I walked around slowly and drank a glass of cold water to try and get them to calm down with the hockey. It felt so good to be walking that I just walked slowly around for what seemed like a while. I kept my hands nervously under my stomach, supporting it, making sure that this wasn't too much exercise. With my bed rest I was allowed a little walking but not much more than that.

The sun was going down by the time I was walking over to turn the lights back on. I sat down, feeling a little better than before. I had just turned the TV on when the phone rang at the same time a knock came from the door. I grabbed the phone first.

"Hello?" I grabbed the armrest and pulled myself into a standing position.

"Guess who?"

I smiled and walked toward the door. I took on my tip-toes and looked through the peephole. Jake was leaning against the doorway casually, as if we had just seen each other hours ago.

"Oh I don't know…Orlando?" I teased. I unlocked the door and pulled it open and it felt like everything bad was sucked out of the room when I did.

Jake rushed in and I hugged him as best as I could. He kissed me and I felt like crying. It was just so good to have him back with me. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed everything about him until he was here. The smell of his soap, his hands, his voice, his face…it was everything that made somewhere home, and I was an idiot to think I could turn a place without him into one. I hadn't realized exactly how desperately I needed him until now. I felt more like me with him here. I felt happier.

He took my hand and led me to the couch. He helped me down and I hugged him again.

"I missed you." I muttered. He wrapped his arms around me and we stayed that way for a while. It hadn't been that long since I had thought I was never going to see him again. I started crying and he laughed lightly. He kissed me twice before pulling away. He wiped the tears off my cheeks.

"Are you crying because you missed me or because of the hormones?"

I laughed too. "A little bit of both," I admitted.

This time I kissed him. I pulled away and rested my head on his shoulder and he stroked his fingers through my hair.

"You're blonde." He stated, surprise coloring his voice.

I laughed again. I had forgotten all about that. "Yeah. I don't like it much anymore though. Once I have the babies I'm going to dye it back to its original color."

He pulled back and looked at me for a moment.

"I like it, but I think I like the brown more." He said honestly. I started giggling at the fact we were talking about hair when so much was going on.

"And," he continued, his face breaking out into a large smile, "I'm thinking Mt. Everest." He gently placed his hands on my stomach and I pretended to glare at him.

"Thanks so much," I said sarcastically. "You might have to start combining mountains soon. I've got months to go."

He whistled lowly under his breath and I lightly hit his arm. He smiled and kissed me again.

"It's a good thing. It means they are getting bigger, which means they're more likely to survive outside the womb if they are born prematurely." He soothed.

"I know that," I pouted. "I'm almost ninety-nine percent sure Baby B was kicking Baby A in the face earlier."

He laughed loudly. "Well if they are anything like my mom and her sister, I wouldn't be surprised. Did…Baby A protect herself?" He seemed to disapprove of the titles.

"I hope so. It was so funny though. I scolded them and they stopped."

"At least two of our children listen to us." He joked.

"How is Cole?" I asked, apprehension settling over me.

He grimaced. "I think I'm his role model."

I ran my fingers through his hair. "Why is that a bad thing?"

He gently grabbed my hand and kissed it.

"I'm his role model and he's in a house with two girls."

I struggled to contain my laughter.

"And I tried to give him a sex talk today."

That pushed it too far. I busted out laughing. I laughed so hard it hurt and the babies decided to kick me again.

"Sorry," I apologized breathlessly, "How did it go?" I struggled to put on a straight face.

"About as well as the first one." He admitted. "I don't understand why the abstinence is next to holiness thing doesn't work." He frowned.

I kissed him and stroked his back from under his shirt. "You of all people should understand. It didn't work for you either."

He grinned at me and kissed me deeply. "Look who's talking. You were a little seductress."

I pulled away. "Any regrets?" I asked lightly.

"Never." He turned to face me on the couch without even thinking about it, he pushed my shirt up to reveal Mt. Everest. He froze right after he did and looked up at me to make sure he hadn't upset me. I turned to face him better and smiled to show him I wasn't upset.

"Okay, so how are these girls arranged in there?" He eyed my stomach dubiously. I smiled at his expression and took his hand in mine.

"They're both breech, so Baby B's head is about here…" I set his hand over where the trouble-maker's head was. "And her body kind of goes back toward my spine, but she's also like sitting on Baby A's head." I trailed his hand down to where Baby A's head was. "That's Baby A's head," I trailed it down a little more, "And that's her shoulder and arm and some of her side, and then the rest of her faces toward the spine in a downward angle."

The emotions were thick. It was a while before he spoke.

"Ouch. So when Baby A kicks it gets you right in the lower back?"

I nodded, "But Baby B does most of the kicking." He hugged me.

"My poor Miley," He cooed.

"Yeah, poor me. I didn't get in this state by myself, mister." I kidded.

"I would hope not."

Baby B and Baby A decided to stretch/kick at that moment. I knew Jake wouldn't be able to feel Baby A's, but I grabbed his hand and set it over where Baby B was kickboxing. He smiled a watery smile and the beauty of pregnancy was clear again.

"I honestly didn't think I would feel something like that ever again." He whispered. I set my hand over his and things felt in perfect balance.

"You're telling me."

He had conversations with them like they were already out of the womb. Baby B was peaceful and Baby A seemed to almost be responding to him. I had to tell him when she kicked or stretched but even if he couldn't feel it, the wonder was still there. I think I connected with them the moment he did. There was something so emotional in watching him talk to them through my mountain of a stomach that I started crying again, like an idiot.

Susan chose that minute to come back. She opened the door and she, the landlord, and some guy holding a doorknob were all staring at us.

Jake glared, "I'm talking to my daughters. Got a problem?"

They all quickly looked away, and Susan awkwardly stepped in and shut the door.

"So…who likes meatloaf?!"

* * *

Susan stayed for dinner. She and Jake got along well, and I was excited for him to meet Malone. He asked Susan a lot about her twins and for some reason every time he did, it made my heart squeeze in a way that made me smile uncontrollably. He'd always been active in the pregnancies but it was different this time. Or maybe it was only different because this pregnancy hadn't felt real until he was here. And I suddenly understood my mother words in my dream. Maybe they won't make it. But I shouldn't ignore the time I have with them now because of what might happen. Right now I was blessed with two healthy babies, and I should be living up this pregnancy instead of wallowing in the past. It's funny how the people we love can take our emotional, jumbled mess of a mind and reorder our thoughts in the order they were meant to be in the first place.

After dinner, Jake helped Susan with the dishes while I sat at the table. We all talked about Disney World of all things, and after Susan left, Jake and I put a movie in. He wrapped his arm around me and I rested my head against his shoulder. The previews lit up his face and it honestly looked and felt like a new beginning.

* * *

**COLE'S POV:**

I woke up at three A.M. with half my body hanging off the couch and a stomach so hungry it was growling viciously at me. Caitlyn and Emily had fallen asleep too, and the movie was still going.

I stepped over them and walked into the kitchen. My mind was on hot wings and fried chicken and pizza when I entered. I rummaged through the fridge, praying one of those three would show up. I about pissed myself when I heard someone whisper. I instinctively crouched and hid behind the island. I pushed the fridge shut with my foot.

Someone walked into the kitchen and sat down where my Dad was sitting earlier. My stomach growled and I winced. Luckily, the person didn't seem to hear it. Something hit my foot and I bit my tongue, saving myself from screaming out. I turned around to find Emily crouched behind me.

"What are you doing?" She mouthed. I pressed a finger to my lips. She rolled her eyes but nodded.

"They're only fifteen. That isn't fair." I recognized the voice as belonging to Caitlyn's mom. She paused. "Yes. I do want that. Yes…yes I love you. I—yes. But just hear me out. What if we moved far, far away? Don't you think—I remember. Yes. Yes. Yes. I understand. I just…yes. The babies, though…of course. I know. I'll tell her. No I'm going to tell her _that. _What, you want her to know her parents are murderers? I—"

Suddenly, the light flickered on and someone walked behind me and Emily. I was about to scream, but luckily Emily kept her wits. Then she did the last thing I would have expected. She threw herself at me and pressed her lips against mine. There were millions of thoughts running through my mind, the main one being that she was a really, really, really good kisser and others that don't need to be broadcasted. I kissed her back, and she seemed serious about this. She wound her fingers in my hair and somehow ended up sitting on my lap. I wrapped my arms around her.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! EMILY EVE OKEN! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! GET OFF HIM!! OH MY GOD!!!"

Emily jumped off me like she was kicked. Her face was red and I kept my eyes shut, hoping time would go back and I could be sleeping with a growling stomach instead of being seduced by my friend right in front of her over-protective father.

I peeked up to see Oliver glaring and Caitlyn's mom staring at us with a pale face.

"Up. Now." Oliver was shaking in anger. I jumped up nervously. Emily bit her lip and stared at her feet.

"What is going on here?" Oliver demanded.

"How long were you in here?" Caitlyn's mom asked nervously.

"We…um…" I stuttered. I wanted to explain to Oliver that I wasn't trying to get into his daughter's pants; I just wanted to get some damn fried chicken! But I knew Emily had a good reason for doing that so I waited for her plan to unfold.

"It was just a kiss, Daddy. Calm down." Emily soothed.

"YOU WERE ON HIS LAP!"

"Oh so sitting on someone's lap changes a kiss into sex?" She demanded. His face was purple and I was worried for him.

He jabbed a finger at me. "If you weren't like a nephew to me, I'd kick your ass. Don't touch my little girl ever again. Not. Ever. Again. Got it? I really don't want to have to explain to one of my oldest friends that I had to dismember her son."

Claire and Caitlyn walked in sleepily. Claire gently took Oliver's hand.

"Come on, honey. You're coming to lay down before you have a heart attack." Oliver glared at me all the way to the room him and Claire were staying in.

Emily quickly walked out of the room, and I followed her and Caitlyn followed me. She led us down the steps to the basement. She didn't even turn on a light. I fumbled for it while she kept walking.

I followed her to the very back of the basement.

"What was that?!" I demanded. I backtracked, "Not that I didn't like it, but um…"

Emily turned on Caitlyn.

"Your mother was talking on the phone, and she said that she and your father are murderers."

Wow, she didn't cut to the chase. I watched Caitlyn's beautiful face grow confused.

"She probably meant it figuratively…" She muttered softly. "My mother can't be a murderer."

Emily turned to me. "I kissed you because if she knew we'd been listening…well it could be bad. Two hormonal teenagers making out behind the island is a great cover." For her maybe. Now Oliver was going to be watching me, just waiting for me to accidently brush Emily's hand, and then I would be murdered.

"MY MOM ISN'T A—whoa, wait, you kissed Cole?" Caitlyn demanded.

"Maybe she isn't. But you can't convince me something isn't going on." Emily argued. We all noticed how she ignored Caitlyn's last exclamation.

Emily was right, though. Something was going on. Something other than my beautiful friend kissing me and making me even more confused than I was before. And I couldn't help but feel like it was our job to figure it all out.


	31. Control

**A/n:** I think I have a two day pattern going! Better than two months! Thank you all so much for the great reviews! Thanks to my dear betas! A good luck to one on the SAT tomorrow! And happy belated birthday to speedsONEandONLY!  
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**"Just think how happy you would be if you lost everything you have right now, and then got it back again."-- ****Frances Rodman**

* * *

"You know," Jake started, as he inspected his reflection in the toaster, "I think I might be the best looking thirty-two year old man in the history of the world."

I hid my grin by quickly sipping from my glass. He didn't need his confidence boosted. I waited a good while before I replied.

"You're probably right." Boosting was bad, but I couldn't lie to him.

"I wonder how many people my beautiful appearance has depressed. Not everyone can be as sexy as me."

"Careful, honey. Your ego is showing." I warned.

He turned away from the toaster and sat back down across from me.

"Our children are so incredibly lucky that they have two extremely stunning parents." He said seriously.

I took a bite of my food and chewed slowly. I swallowed.

"When everyone else has a good hair day, they have a spring in their step. When you have a good hair day, it's Jake Ryan Day."

He grinned and leaned the chair back on two legs.

"I'm just that extraordinary."

"I thought I missed your ego but I'm thinking maybe I was delusional." A nudge to the side of my stomach seemed to be agreeing with me.

"One of your daughters agrees." I informed him.

He sighed and leaned forward. He took one of my hands.

"Okay, I'll stop. I'm sorry." He kissed my hand and patted the top of my stomach. "Sorry, baby." He cooed. I rolled my eyes but couldn't keep the smile at bay. I carried my dishes to the sink and placed them on top of his.

He followed me into the living room and I turned around to talk to him while we walked.

"Guess where we get to go today," I smiled with fake enthusiasm. He nervously grabbed my shoulders and turned me around so I was faced forward.

"Let's make sure it's not the hospital, okay?" He took my hand.

I sarcastically walked extremely slowly and carefully to the couch. I exhaled dramatically when I sat down. I pulled my hand out of his and placed it over my heart.

"The walk to the couch always gets my heart beating. There's so much danger over those few feet that I'm surprised I haven't met my maker by now. Talk about near death experiences!"

He eyed me disapprovingly.

"You were walking backwards and talking to me at the same time. You could have accidently ran into the table and fallen."

"Oh, sorry. I forget that multitasking is too dangerous now." I held my breath.

He laughed in spite of himself. "Alright, what are you doing now?"

"Holding my breath," I wheezed, "It's too dangerous for my lungs _and _my heart to be working at the same time."

He sighed and kissed me until I finally gave in and inhaled deeply through my nose. He pulled away while I tried to restore the correct levels of oxygen. I sucked in gulps of air for a few seconds before I felt better.

"If I didn't watch over you, you'd walk off a cliff." He explained. He pulled me into his arms and rested a hand on top of my stomach. I looked up at the edge of his jaw.

"In New York?" I challenged.

"I would not be surprised."

I let my eyes shut.

"I'll have you know I was doing great protecting myself. I didn't fall off anything. Not even the couch." I defended myself. He laughed and I threaded my hand with his that was on top of my stomach.

"I'm proud. Okay, so I may be a little irrational. But I can't help it and you know it."

I leaned my head over a little and kissed his neck. "You trip more than I do."

"True. But I also don't have babies inside of me." His thumb stroked the back of my hand.

That reminded me of what I was trying to tell him before he got all spastic on me.

"Oh yeah." I leaned my head back so I could meet his eyes, "You lose. The answer is the doctor's office. That's where we get to go today."

He grinned happily, "Oh boy! The doctor's office?! All my dreams are coming true!"

I raised my other arm over my head and patted the top of his head.

"If you're a good little boy you'll even get a sticker and lollipop!" I teased.

"Better be a Clifford sticker." He said seriously. I collapsed into laughter and he laughed with me.

"Do you remember that time Cole poured a jar of spaghetti sauce on Moose to make him red like Clifford?" I giggled at the memory.

"It's funny now but it sure wasn't then. I don't think your grandmother has forgiven us yet. Her poor clothes."

We both laughed and then fell silent as we thought. The sun shimmered through the glass doors that led to the balcony and reflected brightly against a mirror hanging on the wall opposite. It blazed against us and warmed the room considerably.

"What time are we going?" Jake asked, his voice hush and heavy with comfort. The soft wind breezed through the balcony and crept over an old wind chime made of a piece of wood, painted glass squares, and string. The coral, garnet, pearl, cobalt, mint, and gold colors danced and dazzled on the wall and the satiny, tinkling melody bounced throughout the room in a very peaceful and serene way.

"Umm," my eyes drift shut again. "Three."

He rested his cheek against the top of my head. He sighed contently.

"We have a few hours."

I shut my eyes and listened to his breathing and the song the wind was playing. Soon, the warm sun and the rhythm of his breathing lulled me to sleep.

* * *

**COLE'S POV: **

I was rudely awakened by the sound of a TV nearing its volume limit. The floor vibrated with the loud sound and, to top it all off, people were trying to have conversations and instead of turning the TV down, they yelled over it.

I angrily shoved my blankets off me and dropped down onto the floor. This is was absolutely ridiculous. This is was my house. Well, kind of. It was more mine than theirs, though.

I shoved out of the room, the noise almost making a barricade against my door. I spotted Caitlyn and Emily leaning against the wall, their hands over their ears.

I crossly walked over to the couch, where Oliver was sitting. He smiled in pain. He yelled over the rap music video.

"HOW'D YOU LIKE YOUR WAKE UP CALL?"

I scowled at him and snatched the remote out of his hand. I put the TV on mute.

"Very mature."

"I try. Your kind and compassionate and forgiving Uncle Oliver made a giant breakfast for you. But unfortunately, it's all gone now. Sorry."

My stomach growled at him and I stomped my way into the kitchen. Sure enough, it looked like a war zone. Caitlyn's mom and Claire were doing dishes.

I managed to find three packages of poptarts and a bag of pretzels. I ate it all, the whole time planning how to get back at Oliver. He made me so angry that it made me want to go have sex with Emily just to piss him off.

As if she knew I was thinking about her, she slid into the seat beside mine.

"Don't think too badly about him. He's just…psychotic when it comes to my safety. He does care about you. He just…cares about me more." Emily patted my hand sympathetically. And before I could stop myself, I grasped hers in mine. Her eyes widened and I couldn't remember how to control my arm.

"You, um," I scrambled for something to say, all the while becoming more and more flustered. Emily looked around, embarrassed. "Have really nice hands. Very picturesque, and I know about pictures."

I finally dropped it, my stomach feeling hollow and shaky even though I just ate breakfast and snacks for three. She nervously bit her lip.

"Thanks, I think…" She looked away.

Just then, Caitlyn cheerfully sat down on my other side.

"I like your boxers. Steel was always my favorite shade of blue." My blood was replaced with ice and I felt my ears catch fire. That was embarrassing. But it wasn't like I looked bad or anything.

Emily smiled a strained smile. "I thought that was turquoise, Cait."

Caitlyn cocked her head to the right and smiled back at Emily.

"Why Emily, you seem quick-witted today! And no, actually. It changed."

"I'm sure," Emily mumbled under her breath.

The tension at the table was making my stomach feel even weirder.

"Have you girls seen the backyard yet?" I asked.

"Nope." Emily said.

Caitlyn looked at me through beautiful, half-lidded eyes. "No, but I would love to."

Emily stood up and accidentally knocked into the back of Caitlyn's chair as she walked past.

"Opps! Sorry!" She exclaimed. I could have sworn I saw her roll her eyes when she turned back around. I knew girls always had some sort of feud going on, but from what Caitlyn had told me, they were really close friends. I didn't understand what could have happened to make them so angry with each other.

Caitlyn and I stood up and we all walked to our rooms to change out of our pajamas. My room was next to the room Caitlyn and Emily were sharing and I could have sworn I heard them yelling.

I got dressed quickly, choosing a shirt my grandma always said made my eyes look good. I pulled jeans on and was out of my room before the girls. I slipped my feet into my shoes while I waited.

Three minutes later, and they still weren't out. This was getting ridiculous. What could they possibly be doing in there? How long does it take to put on a shirt and pants? I waited five more minutes.

"Are you two alive?" I called. There was a pause and then the door opened.

Caitlyn came out in a skirt so short I was surprised her mother even bought it for her. Her legs looked so soft and shiny and long and I had to look away. She came beside me and smiled sweetly. Oh God, where was her shirt? That tight tanktop surely didn't count. The lights shined against her shoulders and chest and I felt blood rushing to places it really shouldn't.

Jesus…Jesus…bag of cocaine…weed…

Emily walked out and rolled her eyes in Caitlyn's face. I wasn't sure why Emily was acting like that. Caitlyn didn't look trampy. She looked beautiful. Caitlyn always dressed like this. Emily could have looked just as beautiful in clothes like that. I didn't see anything wrong in Caitlyn playing up what she had. But somehow, even in her T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops, Emily looked just as beautiful as Caitlyn. It went against everything I knew as a guy and I did not like it.

Emily pulled her hair back into a ponytail as we walked. Her neck was really pretty. So were her collarbones.

I opened the door for them. I liked Virginia. It was just as warm here as in California, but there was more space. The house we rented had this really cool backyard. There was this long porch swing in the middle of a circular garden and it was right under a large tree so the sun wasn't too bad.

"I should have put on some sunscreen." Emily complained as she squinted at the sun. Caitlyn walked ahead of us and headed toward the swing.

"Can't tan with sunscreen!" She called. She looked exotic standing around all the bright, colorful flowers.

Emily and I walked in silence to the swing. I sat down in the middle and they both sat on the other side. I jokingly wrapped my arms around their shoulders. Caitlyn giggled and Emily sighed in exasperation. But she also rested her head against my shoulder, which somehow took all the butterflies off of the flowers and sent them into my stomach. And I thought about her lips when she kissed me. I quickly remembered my role model and tried to make my thoughts holy.

"Oh," Emily said suddenly. She lifted her head and looked at Caitlyn. "I want my tanktop back later."

Caitlyn smiled. "Okay. But I thought you said you didn't want it."

Emily's face stayed void of all emotion.

"I changed my mind. I'm allowed to do that. It was mine first."

Caitlyn gave her a mean look and I looked between them in surprise. Seriously? Over a tanktop?

"Well that, my friend, is called Indian giving and it isn't something friends do."

Emily's voice coated itself with sugar. "Honey, it's not Indian giving if you never had it in the first place."

Caitlyn's mouth opened in shock and she looked away in agitation.

"Says you. I think this tanktop likes me _better_."

Emily leaned over me more so she could see Caitlyn better. Her stomach pressed against my thigh and I gulped. There was a gap in the top of her shirt as she leaned forward and I tried not to look, really, I did, but I couldn't help it. I never pinned her as a girl who would wear a hot pink bra. I couldn't see much other than a little of her bra but I could see a little cleavage. And for someone who wanted sunscreen she was really tan all over. And beautiful. And sexy. And oh this was so not something Jesus would do. I am going to straight to Hell. But I'm going to get my ass kicked by Oliver first if I don't control myself. Calm. Dead puppies. Dead puppies. Dead puppies.

"How could the tanktop like you better? The tanktop has known me since it was…bought at the store! Do you know what me and that tanktop have been through? I was even there with that tanktop when it started being stupid and wouldn't fit right! And it's starting to fit me perfectly again and you think you're going to take it away? Nope. Sorry." Emily raged. She leaned farther over me.

Girls are all insane. They actually talk about their clothes like they are people. That is abnormal.

"I wouldn't even be trying to take it if you didn't say you didn't want it!" Caitlyn yelled. She leaned closer to Emily. And I could _really _see down her shirt. Oh wow. Black. No! Look away. Look away. Jesus would look away. But I would be so ungrateful if I looked away. God was giving me peeks at beautiful girls and it would be selfish and wrong for me to just look away. Yeah, I'm going with that.

"Just because I said I didn't want it doesn't mean you can have it! If you would have asked if you could have it I would have said no!" Emily was getting so angry her face was flushed. Her chest was heaving under her shirt and it looked so gorgeous that I had to think of dead _people_.

They were both practically in my lap at this point and their faces were like millimeters apart. How hot would it be if they kissed each other and made up. No! Death, destruction, blood…

"That isn't fair!" Caitlyn complained.

"Life isn't fair! Now I want it, so it's mine! It fits me better anyway! You don't know anything about it! There's a certain way it has to be…washed! It needs an owner who understands it!"

"I understand it plenty! And it fits me great! You don't know anything about the way me and the tanktop get along! So don't pretend like you do!"

Emily was about to reply but she suddenly sighed. Her and Caitlyn turned me at the same time.

"Stop looking down my shirt!" They screamed in unison.

Oops…caught. I quickly looked at their faces and smiled the most charming smile I owned.

"Sorry."

That seemed to break their anger and they both leaned back and sat where they were before.

"Maybe you could just go to the store where Emily got her tanktop and get one just like it?" I suggested to Caitlyn.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "They don't make that tanktop anymore."

"Oh." I thought. I just wanted them to be friends again. "What if you shared it? Like when Emily isn't wearing it, you can."

They both started laughing and I was really confused.

"I don't think that would work." Emily gasped through laughs.

"Me either." Caitlyn agreed. I took it as a good sign they were laughing.

"Would you two beautiful ladies like to see the lake? It's a short walk." I offered.

Caitlyn smiled and Emily blushed.

"We'd love to," They said at the same time. That was getting a little creepy.

Halfway down toward the lake, it thundered.

"It wasn't supposed to storm today," Emily stated as she squinted at the sky.

"The clouds look scary." Caitlyn whispered.

Oops. I think God is a little unhappy with me. My bad.

* * *

**MILEY'S POV: **

"Jaaaaaake," I sang. I poked his arm, "Wake uuuup…"

He went on sleeping. I glanced nervously at the clock. We had ten minutes to get out of here and get to the building to make the appointment.

I sighed. I grabbed a pillow and gently smacked him with it.

"Up!" I commanded.

He didn't move.

"Oh! Orlando! How nice to see you!" I yelled loudly. No change.

I leaned my head up and kissed his lip three times. On the third, he cracked open an eye.

"How much longer do you think I could have drug that out?" He joked.

"Not long. If you weren't up by the forth I was going to shake you."

I began working on standing up from the couch. Jake watched me for a moment.

"Need some help?"

I stopped trying and nodded. He stood up and offered me his hand. I grasped it and he pulled me to my feet.

"Right, so, we're going to be late. We need to go now." I grabbed my purse. He held my hand as we locked up (the landlord had given me the new keys yesterday), and he didn't let go until I was in the car. He sat behind the wheel.

"Are you going to drive?" I asked impatiently.

"I'm scared." He admitted.

"For God's sake, Jake, you've been driving for years."

"Yeah but what if I do something wrong and we crash." He mumbled, staring at the steering wheel like it was Satan.

"Move and _I'll _drive," I unbuckled my seatbelt.

"NO!" He slowly started the car and put it in gear, determination set on his face. "I can do this."

"I would really hope so, darling." I muttered.

It took us thirty minutes to make the ten minute drive. I was getting really annoyed. He didn't normally act like this. Maybe I should get Malone to look him over…he might be sick.

By the time we made it to the waiting room, he seemed really upset about something. He was nervously shifting from foot to foot and looked like he was about to pass out.

"Come here," I patted the spot beside me on the giant reclining examination chair. The paper crinkled as he sat down. I looked in his eyes for an answer but I didn't get one. I stroked his cheek.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked, concern leaking from my words. He exhaled deeply.

"Worried." He muttered. I wrapped my arms around his middle and kissed him, my heart swelling at his concern but aching at his pain.

"Everything is okay. Be happy." I kissed him again.

The door opened and Malone smiled at us as she came in.

"Well what do we have here? The daddy-to-be!" She exclaimed. She rummaged around under the cabinet. I couldn't contain my laughter when she grabbed a thermometer and ordered Jake to open his mouth.

"I'm not sick," He argued. She raised an eyebrow. He quickly opened his mouth and she shoved the thermometer under his tongue.

"Shut your mouth." She ordered. She counted in her head and then pulled it out, glancing at the reading.

"Ninety-eight point six." She read off.

"Told you." Jake muttered.

She smiled in a way that told me she was finding this very fun.

"You look like you have the flu. I couldn't risk you infecting my patient." She defended herself. She jotted down something on my chart.

"Hey, what are you writing? I'm not the patient." Jake panicked.

She pulled a small piece of paper off the clipboard. "My grocery list. I just remembered something I needed. And you need to calm down or I'm going to check your blood pressure, too."

She crossed back over to me.

"I don't suppose I need to clean this. Do you want me to?" She asked. She waved the thermometer in front of my face.

I turned and grinned at Jake. "No need. Any freaky diseases he's carrying I already have anyway," I joked. He smiled weakly.

I prayed while she was taking my temperature and I had a feeling Jake was too. It was one thing to joke about having a disease and quite another to actually have one.

She pulled it out of my mouth and I kept my eyes shut while she read it.

"Ninety-nine point two."

Jake freaked out.

"What? What does that mean? Is that a fever? Is something wrong? What is happening? Is she—blajukvahock,"

I opened my eyes and laughed. Jake pulled the thermometer Malone shoved into his mouth out.

"It's fine," She assured both of us, "Mom's just a little hotter because of the combined warmth coming from the babies."

Jake grinned. "You're a hot mama."

I flicked his shoulder but joined in his laughter.

Malone fastened the blood pressure cuff around my arm. I watched Jake as she took my blood pressure.

She clicked her tongue. "Miley, look away from him. It's making your blood pressure rise."

"You have no idea what you just did," I muttered as Jake's face broke out in a cocky grin. I looked at the wall.

"Now I have medical proof that I make your heartbeat faster. Not that I ever thought for a moment it didn't. I'm too sexy for someone's blood pressure not to rise." He bragged.

"Maybe it's just high," I threw back.

"Nope." Malone said as she pulled it off me, "It's very good now. It wasn't high as in too high, but it was high for you."

I winced.

"I think it's cute."

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. I opened an eye to see Malone carefully putting the cuff around his arm. She turned the machine on just as he broke the kiss to see what was going on.

"Hey!" He exclaimed. She pulled his off him.

"Yours was high too. You two are even now."

Jake's smile came back. "Never said we weren't even to begin with."

Malone quickly wrote down what she needed on my chart, and then motioned for us to get up. She stopped Jake.

"Can you control yourself? We're going to the ultrasound room but you're only coming if you know how to behave."

He scoffed. "You've known me for ten minutes. You can't assume I don't know how to control myself."

"I'm not an idiot." She rebutted.

I slid off the table and walked between them.

"Stop bickering." I said sharply.

"She started it." Jake grumbled.

I stroked my fingers through his hair. "Poor widdle Jakey,"

"You two coming?" Malone asked impatiently. I'd have to explain to Jake later that she just didn't like men in general.

We followed her down the hall into the room they used for ultrasounds. I laid down on the table and Jake stood beside me.

The technician came and got everything set up. I glanced at Jake from the corner of my eye as they squirted the gel onto my stomach. He was smiling in a way that clearly said he was glad this was happening again and that he was here. I smiled softly to myself.

Once everything was up and running, the technician ran the transducer over my stomach. I was more interested in watching Jake's reaction, so I looked at him. I saw the babies a lot via ultrasound. Malone was ultrasound insane.

"They are perfect for twenty-seven weeks. Baby A is about nine inches, and Baby B is about ten. But they will probably be an even eleven by next week. Have you felt them hiccup yet? Have they responded to light?" Malone asked.

"No hiccups yet, and I haven't tried for the light." I responded, smiling at the look on Jake's face as he watched them.

She tossed a small black flashlight at Jake. He jumped and caught it in time.

"In just a second why don't you try that?" She suggested. He nodded eagerly.

Malone wrote down a little bit more and let Jake and I watched a little longer. They both made small movements, but didn't do anything big. The technician switched it off and helped me get the gel off my stomach. She left once her job was completed.

Malone motioned at Jake. He sat on the edge of the table and clicked the flashlight on. He aimed it at where Baby B's head was first. I smiled and nodded at Malone as I felt her jerky movements as she tried to turn to the source. He moved it over to where Baby A would be able to see it. I waited nervously and let out a relieved laugh as she responded the same as her sister.

"Good. That is great." Malone smiled. "Next week begins the third trimester. The babies should weigh about two pounds each by then. They will also get their eyebrows and eyelashes. Soon they can bat them at you guys and beg for money," She joked. We smiled.

"Any questions?" She asked.

I tried to think of one but I couldn't. I shook my head.

"Nope!" Jake said cheerfully. He had done a complete turn-around from before and didn't look the least bit worried.

"Have a nice day!" Malone said.

"Malone, wait a sec," I called. She stopped and turned around.

"I promised Jake that if he was a good boy he could have a sticker and lollipop."

She snorted. "Any special requests?" She asked him sarcastically.

He held his head high.

"Yes. Clifford and cherry."

She left to go get them and I couldn't stop laughing. He hugged me and kissed me and I still couldn't stop.

"I love you." I gasped out.

"I love you too, hot mama." He grinned.

That only made me laugh more. I held the bottom of my stomach as I laughed and hoped the pressure on my bladder wasn't going to make me pee myself.

Malone came in then and glared at Jake.

"Are you just trying to knock her into labor?"

He seemed appalled.

"I most certainly am not! How rude!"

"You're going to pee yourself," Malone warned me. It took me a minute, but I got a hold of myself.

"What can I say? I'm a sexy, comedic genius. Now give me my present."

Malone handed him the sticker and the lollipop. He grinned widely as he read the sticker.

"Oh God, Malone, what did you give him?" I craned my neck to see what the sticker said. He unpeeled it and stuck it on his shirt.

It was a picture of Clifford with the words '_I'VE GROWN!' _on it. I struggled to keep from laughing. Jake unwrapped his lollipop and cheerfully ate it.

"He gets silly and conceited when he's happy," I explained to Malone. She nodded.

By the time we were home, Jake had finished the lollipop and taken the sticker off. We ate dinner, I peed three times, he convinced me to eat a cookie, we changed into pajamas, and then he helped me into the bed.

"Two questions," I muttered as I pulled the blanket over my stomach, "Why are your boxers pink, and why do they look like they were wadded up into a ball for a year?"

"One answer. I did laundry." He explained.

He wrapped his arm around me and I leaned my head against his chest.

"That's pathetic," I muttered. I winced as both Baby B and Baby A kicked. Oh great, another all-nighter.

Jake set both his hands gently on top of my stomach and they fell immobile. My heart swelled and part of me wanted to ask how he did it, but another didn't want to know. The mystery just made it even better.

"I really _do _love you." I whispered. He kissed the top of my head.

"I know. I love you too."

I sighed as peace settled over me like a fluffy blanket.

"I know."

There were many things I did know, and many I didn't. But right now the only things that mattered were what I did know. Jake and I love each other, these babies are perfectly healthy, my family was safe, and my heart has not felt so whole in years.


	32. Collapse

**A/n: **Sorry for the wait! Blame school. Thank you all so much for the reviews and I hope you enjoy this chapter!!

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**"I'm just a painter and I'm drawing a blank." -- Fall Out Boy, "Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?"

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**COLE'S POV: **

By the time we made it to the lake, the sky was a very furious color. Emily seemed a little uneasy and she kept looking up at it. Caitlyn seemed to have mellowed out and calmly sat on the fallen trunk of a tree.

The lake's dark grey water looked really eerie under the stormy light and not at all like the beautiful lake it was a few days ago. Emily sat down beside Caitlyn silently, and I sat down beside her. We were quiet as we gazed blankly at the sky or water, and I wondered where their thoughts were.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked them both. Emily smiled softly and she looked so bright among all this darkness.

"I was thinking about that time I stayed at your house and your mom brought us to that water park and you were too scared to go down the big slide." She teased. I flushed in embarrassment and didn't want Caitlyn knowing about that. I wanted her to think of me as a brave, tough person. Not a frightening little wuss.

"I was six," I defended myself. "Besides, the lifeguards were hotter in the playground part."

She laughed and it sounded like happiness, if a feeling ever had a sound.

"You were six," She mocked my previous words.

"Even then they were all over me." They really were. I turned to Caitlyn before Emily could embarrass me with any other childhood stories.

"What about you?"

She shrugged and looked at the ground. "The past."

I took that as she didn't want to talk about it, so I nodded and awkwardly looked away.

"What if you were right about my parents? What if my mother was serious?" She whispered and it changed the mood considerably. The clouds seemed darker and more ominous and Emily scooted closer to me. I felt unexplained pride in the fact she thought of me as protection against bad things.

"Then we have a problem on our hands." Emily muttered. She was so close I could feel her body heat and smell her perfume or soap or whatever it was that smelled so good. I kept confusing myself. I thought I liked Caitlyn. But since they had gotten here, Emily had captured my attention more than I would have thought she would. They both made my heartbeat faster, but somehow in different ways. I'm not sure if Caitlyn's laying her head on my shoulder would have meant that much. Could someone like two people at once?

"When I was ten, I overheard a conversation my parents were having." Caitlyn started. She stared at the clouds while she spoke and I was struck again by her beauty. It was so perfect, so gorgeous, that something was off about it. And as weird as it sounds, she reminded me of a memory that I never could place. There was a certain feeling, a certain smell, that made me feel the presence of the memory every now and then but I couldn't ever grasp it. It was almost like a dream I had when I was small that scarred me. Or a nightmare.

"My dad was angry. Really angry. Like he usually is. My mom was calm and loving and I remembered that even I was calmed by her voice as she tried to soothe him. He just kept saying 'I can't stop'. He talked about his childhood, and somehow the two fit together. 'I'm sorry, I love you, but I have to win. I can't think of anything else. Everywhere I look, their victory is staring me in the face, taunting. If I don't do something then I am going to have to leave you because I can't take it anymore', he had said, or something very close to that. My mother told him to do whatever he needed to do to feel better. And…then he asked her a question. He asked 'What if it hurts someone?' and my mother said 'Do what is needed'. Then he said something I couldn't hear. Then he asked her if she would help him and she said she'd help him with anything. I didn't think much of it then, because I didn't really understand what was going on…but now I'm wondering if maybe…maybe they were talking about whatever my mom was talking about on the phone."

By the end of her story, my head was spinning and the sun suddenly felt so hot on the back of my neck. Something felt so wrong. I could feel a memory tugging annoyingly at my mind, and not the one that usually did. I thought about the day I met Caitlyn and the way I'd introduced myself as Caden (that got annoying fast), but that wasn't what my mind was pestering me about. The memory came flying back like it was never gone. It was something that happened on the same day. My mother's voice rang in my head.

"_Luke stood over my body, and I remember exactly what he said to me. He said 'Even if by some miracle you live, you'll never have children ever again. You'll never be happy, or win. I always win.' And he laughed. He laughed. And I heard a gunshot, and then another. And I passed out."_

The words of Caitlyn's father went sickeningly with my mother's story. I thought about her description of that man, that Luke person, and found all the strange and beautiful things in Caitlyn to have been in that description as well.

I felt like throwing up when I realized I was sitting beside the daughter and the second cousin of the man who single-handedly destroyed my mother and father's lives.

"Fuck. God _dammit_." I cursed before I could stop it. Both Caitlyn and Emily jumped at my outburst. I stood up and paced in front of the trunk, unsure what to do. I was torn between running back to the house and getting all the allowance I'd saved up and flying to where my parents were, and staying here and trying to figure this out with Emily and Caitlyn. We were only kids though. This was way over our heads. And Caitlyn might even be in on this.

I thought about the end of my mom's story, and what my dad had told me in the kitchen the other day. How was he still alive?

"_They're only fifteen. That isn't fair." I recognized the voice as belonging to Caitlyn's mom. She paused. "Yes. I do want that. Yes…yes I love you. I—yes. But just hear me out. What if we moved far, far away? Don't you think—I remember. Yes. Yes. Yes. I understand. I just…yes. The babies, though…of course. I know. I'll tell her. No I'm not going to tell her __that. __What, you want her to know her parents are murderers? I—"_

Fifteen. That's obviously Emily, Caitlyn, and I. What about us, though? It sounded from Caitlyn's mom's words that she was trying to keep the peace, but I knew she'd do anything for Caitlyn's father. The babies. What were they planning on doing to my mother? They were not going to hurt those babies. That would destroy her. They aren't touching my sisters. No way in hell. I'll take out the whole Mongelli—Oken—family before that happens.

My dad had set up for all of us to fly to Connecticut in two days. But it was pointless. It was obvious who we were hiding from, and he was practically with us.

Maybe he was going to get to my mom by getting to me.

I finally tuned back in and Emily was having a fit.

"DAMMIT COLE! YOU BETTER FUCKING TELL ME WHAT YOU REALIZED NOW OR I SWEAR ON ONE WHO LOOKS LIKE SUGAR COOKIES'S GRAVE THAT I'LL CUT YOU!"

Do I tell them or call my parents? I was torn. I considered what would happen if I called my parents. I could warn them so they could get away and then I could meet them there. But if Caitlyn's mom was supposed to keep me here, I'm sure she wouldn't let me get away. Not that she could take me anyway. But I wouldn't want to kick a woman's ass. I could sneak out…but I don't even know if I'm allowed to buy a plane ticket at my age. I could tell Oliver and he could hurry and get us out, but no telling if he would believe me. Or, I could talk to Emily and Caitlyn about this and we could all figure out something.

I was snapped back to reality by a very painful slap across the face. It stung and I worked to keep my face unaffected so they wouldn't think I was a baby. Emily had an arm on her.

"TELL ME!" Emily thundered.

How could I explain all this? There was so much.

I sat down in the sand, overwhelmed. Emily was fuming but Caitlyn just looked thoughtful.

"Caitlyn's dad is trying to kill my mother, and probably everyone she cares about." I muttered. Emily and Caitlyn's jaws dropped and they looked confused.

I took a deep breath and slowly recited my mother and father's story as best as I could. It was a very long and terrible one. By the time I finished, the sun was setting and Emily was constantly swatting at bugs as they landed on her skin.

"You're telling me that man is my dad's _cousin_?" Emily asked in disbelief. I glanced nervously at Caitlyn and I was shocked to see she was crying. I felt horrible. Emily looked at her too and quickly pulled her in her arms, doing the job a best friend was supposed to do. I awkwardly patted her hand, unsure if she was angry at me or not. It was a few minutes before she calmed down enough to talk. She hiccupped cutely when she was upset.

"I always knew something wasn't right with him. But I never knew it was that bad. He's…he's my father." She continued crying. I was almost positive Emily was thinking about what it would be like to have a father like that, just like I was.

She hiccupped, "It all makes sense. Why he hates music and my singing, why he constantly put me in activities as a kid that he knew I would either fail at or have a very hard time doing. I just thought he was always trying to keep me from being happy because he never was, but now I realize he was just trying to save me from becoming like him." She broke down in tears again and I thought about how far people go with their obsessions of getting things they know they can't have. That man did all those terrible things for the challenge, and my mother got pulled so deep into her obsession over having a child because she wanted to beat down the walls he had put up. If everyone could just be content with their lives everyone would be so much happier.

She sobbed heavier now and I took her hand while Emily stroked her hair. "I understand w-why he didn't want anything to do with me. I reminded him so much of your mother that he was always reminded of losing when he saw me. That's what he meant."

I kept my sympathetic face securely on, but inside her words disgusted me. She reminds her father of my mother? She is nothing like my mother. I don't lust after my mother. Ew. Ew. Ew. Forgetting she said that…now. Ugh, that is so wrong. EW. Okay, forgetting. UGH IF SHE WAS ANYTHING LIKE MY MOTHER I WOULDN'T HAVE LOOKED DOWN HER SHIRT! NO! FORGET! DAMMIT, COLE, FORGET! Maybe I shouldn't have disobeyed my role model so when I prayed to ask him to forget he'd be more eager to help…

"How can I accept that my own father did such terrible things?" Caitlyn asked in a broken voice that leaked disappointment and desperation. Her tears had dried now but she only looked sadder.

"My mother was a ho." Emily offered. Caitlyn and I laughed.

"I don't want to be like them. Both my parents are murderers. I don't want to be one." She whispered. It was completely dark out now. The clouds blocked the stars so there wasn't any light at all and it thundered again. We all knew we should go back but no one moved.

"You won't," I assured her. "You're your own person." And not at all like my mom. I mean my mom is pretty and they kind of look ali—NO. Not alike. Not at all. I think Caitlyn just ruined any chances we had together all by herself.

"My mom was a ho," Emily repeated. "Well, _is _a ho. I'm sure she's still doing that job. And my dad says he was a pimp when he was younger. And I'm not a whore. So there. Proof."

I could feel it was my turn.

"Umm, my parents…both like meatloaf and I hate it. And asparagus. There! Proof!"

Caitlyn and Emily gave me a look that told me I wasn't any help. Emily continued giving me that look until I tried again.

I could feel the awkwardness rising even before I spoke.

"My parents got lost in obsession and left me behind. I won't ever do that to my children." I said it seriously and sincerely and felt somehow better after I had said it. Emily deemed that acceptable and nudged Caitlyn.

"See? There you go. We're all learning from whatever mistakes our parents made. And you are learning from the mistakes yours made."

I froze as I heard leaves crunching. Someone was coming toward us.

"Or about to make," I hissed.

Whoever was coming came toward us faster and they dropped something that made a hallow, metallic sound. Caitlyn and Emily screamed and Emily yanked us all down on the ground behind the trunk. Caitlyn landed beside me but Emily landed completely on top of me. _Oh God. _

A lantern clicked on and I found myself staring straight into the face of a furious Oliver. I looked down at his daughter who was on top of me.

"Not again," I groaned under my breath.

"EMILY EVE OKEN!!" His voice echoed loudly around us. Emily didn't move. I could feel her heart beating rapidly.

"My father is about to kill us, isn't he?" She whispered. Her lips were really close to mine and I was finding myself in an uncomfortable situation. Dead puppies…Oh, like that's going to help.

"Yep," I struggled out. She rolled off me and smiled sheepishly up at her dad.

Caitlyn edged toward me and whispered in the dark.

"Was her not being a ho part of the reassurance? Because I am not reassured."

We all three laughed quietly as Oliver yanked me up painfully by the arm and dragged me through the forest. He held Emily's hand and Caitlyn held mine, both our shyness less prominent in the warm darkness of the southern night.

The house came into view and I swallowed nervously. On the bright side, by the time we were all visible to each other I had a better control over myself. The dark side? I was about to go face the person who loved the man who hurt my parents so much, we didn't have a plan, and Oliver was probably going to skin me alive.

Once we were in the light of the house, Emily tried to explain the situation to Oliver, leaving out all we'd realized.

"Caitlyn!"

We all looked up in fear. Caitlyn's mom rushed to her, looking very worried.

"Where were you? You didn't tell me you were going! I was looking all over for you!" She pulled her distant daughter into her arms and Caitlyn didn't make a move to hug her back.

"I'm fine. I'm going to bed. Goodnight." Caitlyn pushed out of her mother's arms and walked out. Her mother's eyes met mine and I could see what she thought. It was all my fault.

Oliver grabbed me by the collar. He looked really scary but funny at the same time.

"I am calling your parents tomorrow. And if I see you in any kind of situation with Emily—I don't care how you ended up that way—you'll be kept away from her until your parents get back. I did this as a favor for your mother, not so my sweet daughter can get impregnated. Got it?"

I nodded quickly, praying he would just let me go to bed. He let go of my collar and ordered Emily into her room. He wouldn't let me go to mine until he saw her go into hers. He let me go into mine then, but I had a feeling he was going to be sleeping outside of it.

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**MILEY'S POV: **

I woke up to an active pair of babies and Jake's hand on my stomach. I was very tired and I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open.

"What are you doing?" I groaned. Jake jumped and then excitedly smiled at me.

"Watch this," He said. He gently poked my stomach and I felt the light fluttering as Baby A moved and the sharp jab as Baby B pushed back. You could see the tiny bump of her foot as she did. Jake gently pressed down on top of it and a few moments later she kicked back. I laughed in spite of my exhaustion, my heart far too swollen for this early in the morning. The feeling of the butterfly-movements as Baby A turned seemed to be intensified by my desire for sleep.

"I think Baby A just turned," I yawned. Jake stretched out horizontal on the bed on his stomach and gently touched the area he remembered Baby A being. I could feel what felt like light taps as she either kicked or punched.

"Baby," Jake cooed, "Are you awake? I love you." He softly kissed over her general area and a laugh escaped me when she got him right in the mouth with her elbow, foot, or little fist. He grinned, a dazed look on his face.

"Right in the teeth! You have a great arm on you, Baby," He stroked over the spot her body part had pushed at. I giggled and rested a hand over my stomach as Baby B and Baby A decided to kick each other again.

"They're fighting." I took his hand and pressed it hard over the spot, "Can you feel that?"

He shook his head but didn't seem too upset. I was really relieved she punched him in the mouth, as weird as that sounded. Baby A didn't kick as much as Baby B and it made me nervous. But she moved positions a lot more and I worried that she was too cramped because of her location.

"Why are you two fighting? There's plenty of daddy to go around," Jake gently patted over them. One of them got me hard in the ribs and another my side.

"Foot!" Jake exclaimed happily as the small outline of a foot appeared. When they got bigger and I was farther along we'd be able to see them moving through my shirt. Right now it wasn't noticeable beyond big kicks and you couldn't see it with anything covering my stomach.

I let my eyes drift shut. I couldn't keep a smile off my face as they kicked and punched and moved and responded to Jake as he talked to them. It was the most surreal thing in the world. He rested his head in my lap and kissed each baby again.

"This 'Baby A, Baby B' stuff is kind of annoying, don't you think?" He whispered to them, and I bet he thought I was sleeping. Baby A aimed one at my back and Baby B moved around like a little fish.

He waited a while to continue and I struggled to stay conscious.

"I've thought of names for you two miracles, but I don't want to make mommy sad." He stroked my stomach lightly and kissed it again. Baby B nudged gently and I wasn't sure if he could feel it. Baby A was moving around like she couldn't get comfortable and my heart ached in worry again. She was always more restful when I was on my left side but I didn't want Jake to know I was awake. He was opening his heart to them and it was so sweet I felt like sobbing. Stupid hormones and adorable husband.

"I think that you two should have names that are as beautiful as you. But I don't know if your mom is ready for that yet so it can be our little secret."

One of then kicked so hard at the side of my stomach that I had to bite my tongue to keep from gasping. Jake laughed very quietly.

"You like the idea of having names, don't you?" Another kiss, another kick.

I was ready for names. Or at least, I felt ready right now. I didn't know whether I should let Jake know or just stay quiet. I knew I wanted to give them names, though. It was a wish that came upon me suddenly with an unexpected power. I wanted to hear the names Jake liked.

I gently set my hand on top of his while he stroked over our daughters. He froze and I worked to sit up better.

"I think I _am _ready for names." I smiled happily at him and for a moment he looked so happy that I almost didn't recognize him. He leaned in and kissed my lips before sitting beside me with his arm around me and his hand on the babies.

"They are so active," I smiled and I wished he could feel everything I felt.

"Double the kicks! I'd be very worried if they weren't active, though." He frowned at the thought and I felt like my stomach lodged itself in my throat. I thought about the last day or two of my pregnancy with Joy. I hadn't thought anything of her complete lack of movement and kicking because we were told it was normal for it to become less frequent near the end due to cramped space. We had no idea it was an early indicator of fetal distress. Or that she would be born dead.

Both babies kicked me lightly right then and it almost felt like a gentle pat of comfort. They were real. They were alive and I could feel that every time they had kicking competitions and stretched and swam around like little fish. As long as I could feel that, they were okay.

I was very comforted by that thought and found myself more thankful for the eye-watering kicks than ever before. I rested my hands over them and breathed. Things are going to be okay. These babies are going to be okay. As long as I do everything I'm supposed to do, they'll be okay. Jake and I deserve this.

"Do you know what I realized last night?" Jake asked softly. I looked up at him and shook my head. He looked at the wall as he talked.

"When these girls are ten, we'll be in our early forties."

Well what a great way to ruin the happiness. I frowned. When Cole was ten we weren't even thirty yet. Forty sounded so old. I didn't want to be old. Would Jake and I even be alive to see our grandchildren grow up? I'd gone from feeling very young to suddenly feeling very old. I found it hard to believe a few months ago I was planning on killing myself. Now the thought of not seeing my children and grandchildren grow up was heartbreaking.

"That isn't very cheerful." I complained. He laughed.

"Don't worry; we'll still be hotter than all the other parents."

I rolled my eyes. I was eager for a subject change. "What are these names you've come up with?" I asked quickly. No use dreading the future when these children weren't even a day old yet.

"You probably won't like them. They are just names that I liked when…we named Joy and Isabella." He made his voice brave and continued. "They aren't very typical."

Baby A punched my back and I smiled.

"And they are?"

He hesitated, "They're French."

I sighed. "Jake, I'm not going to laugh at you, or the names. Please tell me."

He thoughtfully touched Baby B's foot as it kicked the top of my stomach.

"I was thinking Adeline for Baby A and Odette for Baby B."

Both babies either kicked or moved and his names just felt right. It wasn't something I could explain. It was just the moment I heard them, I knew they were perfect for them. I replayed the way they sounded when Jake said them in my mind and found they carried such beauty and nobility that they were perfect for these two. I rested both my hands over them. It sounded like the names of princesses.

"They are perfect for them." And that is all I needed to say because we both knew it.

He stroked his fingers through my hair, "I was also thinking…" He faltered. I looked curiously at him. He took a deep breath. "I think that Adeline Joy and Odette Isabella sound perfect."

I smiled in spite of the old, familiar pain and I felt for the first time that I would, beyond a doubt, be okay. The babies felt like a second chance. A chance to make up for all I had done wrong and fix it. And I couldn't imagine better middle names for these babies, or a better way to keep the memory of Joy and Isabella alive in a positive way. This way they were not always gone, but these children would not be haunted by the pain of their memory like Jake and I had been for all these years. Remembered, but not constantly lurking in every corner of our minds. We had other worries to fill those dark corners now.

I knew it wouldn't be as easy as it sounded to move on, and I probably wouldn't be completely whole for a while. But there was no doubting this was a giant step in recovery.

"I think that sounds beautiful." I whispered, my stupid hormones taking up shop in my tear ducts. I cried without shame and laughed while I did, unable to decide what emotion I felt.

"LUNCH IS ON THE STOVE! I'M GOING OUT TO BUY THOSE PILLOWS YOU ASKED FOR! BE BACK BY DINNER!" Susan screamed down the hall. I looked around in confusion.

"Lunch?"

"It's one in the afternoon." Jake informed me. I felt more confused than I had been in a while. It definitely felt like five AM. I leaned closer to Jake and could smell the scent of soap. If he was already showered it must really be in the afternoon. Why did I feel so tired?

"You already showered." I stated the fact stupidly, not sure what I was getting at. It just felt way too early to be one. It didn't make any sense. It's not like I went to sleep very late.

"Was I supposed to wait for you?" He joked, half serious.

"No, it just feels like five AM. I'm confused." I admitted. He reached for his cell phone and showed me the time.

"Malone was not kidding about exhaustion." I sighed. Baby B turned. "Why is Susan getting pillows?"

"Because the only ones in this house are these two, and the couch pillow. It's annoying to sleep with my head that flat. Besides, you slept on your side with your arm under your stomach the whole night. I'm surprised you could sleep like that."

I looked at him suspiciously. "Please tell me you got some sleep last night. And I guess you're right, we do need more pillows."

"I tried. But every hour that stupid sliding glass door woke me up. It kept flying open and every time it did I thought someone was breaking in. I tried fixing the lock but it's hopeless. I finally pushed the armchair in front of it and sat in that, but I only ended up sleeping for about two hours before Susan got here." He explained. Baby A squirmed and I turned over on my side, resting my head on my palm and my elbow on the pillow. I wedged my other arm under my stomach for support. If something wasn't under it, it always felt like the babies were sliding too far to the side or something. I realized I was still thinking of them as Baby B and Baby A and I vowed to try and use their names.

I frowned, "We'll have to get someone to fix that today."

"Oh, I already did. Someone came over at eleven and took care of it. Speaking of, I talked to Malone and she said it would be okay for us to move somewhere else as long as you didn't lift anything heavier than three or four pounds. Susan said there's this nice little vacation house for rent by the coast. She's going to write down the number so we can see about renting that."

I nodded slowly, my mind spinning with all the information. We talked a little more, and then Jake went to get lunch while I went through my morning routine (brushing my teeth, taking a shower, obsessively applying lotion, brushing my hair, and getting dressed). Once I was done, I went into the living room and sat beside Jake. He handed me my plate and we contently watched an old movie while we ate. The babies woke up an hour after we finished and Jake talked to them using their new names. It could have been my imagination, but their responses seemed more energetic than usual. And Adeline seemed more comfortable, but I'm sure that had to do with the fact I was so calm and Jake was so happy.

"I can already tell they are going to be daddy's girls," Jake joked.

"Whatever, they are so going to be mommy's girls." I played along. But I thought he was right. There was clear adore in the way they were with him.

"I think they'll be equal," He sounded like he meant it. "Both our girls."

I couldn't stop my smile from taking over my face. I touched where Odette's little foot kicked the top of my stomach and I felt like crying _again. _"I really like the sound of that." I whispered.

He pulled me in his lap and kissed me. I felt my exhaustion taking over again and I rested my head against him. His breath was warm again my ear as he talked.

"I think all our pain is finally coming to an end." He whispered. Adeline nudged me softly and Odette turned. _Look mommy, _they seemed to be saying, _daddy sees it too. _

I held his left hand and absentmindedly played with his wedding band. I watched it spin and twist around in circles and I thought about the Ferris wheel that had been in my dream before Jake came and the one I had last night. What was so important about Ferris wheels? They're just big, giant, spinning wheels carrying people around and around. It hit me in the face. Like life. What was a complete circle? I wasn't sure I wanted a complete circle. I didn't want to go back to where Jake and I had been. But in the dream the Ferris wheel always stops.

My head hurt from trying to analyze dreams that probably didn't mean anything. I slid Jake's ring back where it belonged.

The sharp ringing of the phone scared me. I jumped and Jake reached over to the table and grabbed my phone. He handed it to me. Oliver. My stomach dropped and I prayed Cole wasn't hurt before I picked it up.

"Hello?" My voice sounded very shaky and I worked to get it under control.

"Miley. How are you? How are the babies? We need to talk about that son of yours." Oliver's voice was rushed, but only sounded a little angry. I calmed.

"We're fine. What about him?" I asked warily.

"I've caught him and Emily all over each other twice. Literally." His voice had that familiar whine to it and I smiled widely. Cole and Emily?! She was so much better than that stupid whore Lila. In fact, Emily was probably the only girl that came close to deserving Cole's heart. If they were together I was very happy for them and would shamelessly pray they stayed together forever. It wasn't that big of a long shot. Jake and I started dating at this age.

"They're dating? What do you mean by 'all over each other'?"

Jake groaned. "I told him to stay away from Caitlyn! I bet he's not picturing her as a bag of cocaine."

What the hell? I shook my head and decided I didn't want to know.

"It's _Emily,_" I informed Jake happily.

"I MEAN I WALK INTO THE KITCHEN AT NIGHT AND THEY ARE BEHIND THE ISLAND AND MY SWEET LITTLE GIRL IS IN HIS LAP AND THEY ARE MAKING OUT! AND THEN TONIGHT I WENT OUT TO THE LAKE TO LOOK FOR THEM—

"YOU LET THEM GO OUTSIDE IN THE DARK?!" I screamed, my heart beating too fast with my worry. Adeline and Odette squirmed and turned restlessly at my stress. I placed Jake's hand on my stomach and they settled. I knew it was wrong but I couldn't resist the urge—I put the phone on speaker phone.

"I DIDN'T KNOW THEY WERE GOING TO STAY OUT THAT LATE! THEY WERE FINE! NOW LET ME FINISH! THEY WERE BEHIND A LOG AND SHE WAS COMPLETELY ON TOP OF HIM! I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY SHE'S ALL OVER HIM! WHAT HAS HE DONE TO HER?! SHE IS NOT A BOY CRAZY GIRL!"

Jake was struggling not to laugh and I quickly turned it back to normal.

"Calm down, Oliver. He hasn't done anything purposely. You're forgetting that Cole is Jake's son. Think about Jake at that age." I winked at Jake and he fell back into laughter.

"WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?! CAN'T YOU TALK TO COLE AND TELL HIM TO STOP DOING WHATEVER HE'S DOING TO MAKE EMILY ALL…LIKING HIM?" Oliver was probably about to have a stroke.

"Oliver, I love you, but you are being an idiot. Think about that last sentence. Sounds like you need to talk to Emily. It's not that big of a deal. They aren't having sex."

"NOT THAT WE KNOW OF! AND I TRIED TO TALK TO EMILY BUT SHE SAID THAT THE FIRST TIME WAS JUST TO SEE IF THEY LIKED EACH OTHER AND THE SECOND WAS AN ACCIDENT BECAUSE SHE FELL!"

I sighed and Jake was still shaking from laughter. Odette and Adeline kicked happily, probably wanting to be in on the joke.

"It probably _was_ an accident. Just let them be kids and figure things out. You know they won't do anything irresponsible. Calm down. You aren't going to lose Emily. Is Cole there?"

Oliver growled. "He's beside me."

"Be nice," I warned, real threat in my voice, "let me talk to him."

"Make him stop being whatever he's being that is making Emily like him," Oliver begged.

I looked at Jake, "What kind of sex talk did you give him?" I joked. Jake looked ashamed.

"Not a very good one. But I promise I didn't give him tips on picking up girls."

I laughed and turned my attention back to the phone.

"I'm not going to tell him not to be himself. Give the phone to him." I responded to Oliver.

"PLEASE!" Oliver pleaded.

"GIVE HIM THE PHONE!"

There was a pause and Cole picked up. He greeted me and his voice sounded off.

"What's wrong?" I demanded immediately.

There was a pause and it sounded like he was walking away from people.

"I'm confused, things are wrong here, and I want to go home." He vented, his voice breaking at the last work. My heart ached. I wanted him here with us too. But he was so much safer with Oliver. I couldn't put him in danger. I covered the mouthpiece and turned to Jake.

"Did you tell Cole why you were coming here?" He nodded and continued his game of Poke Me Back with Adeline and Odette.

"I want you to be here too, honey, but you are safer there. You have to be where you are safest. As for your confusion—Emily. And yes, I am biased. What is wrong there?"

"How did you know…?" He asked in confusion. I smiled.

"I can just tell. And putting all prejudices aside—you'll know who. If you don't know now, you will. Don't worry so much about it. Speaking of…Oliver wants me to tell you to stop making Emily like you."

He paused. "Emily likes me?" His voice held genuine surprise and I was confused. They were kissing…how did he not know she liked him?

"How did you—"

He cut me off and I heard an unfamiliar voice in the background.

"Mom, I need to tell you something. Things aren't safer here. That is what's so wrong. I know something and you have to promise you won't freak out and go into early labor if I tell you. No, you know what, hand the phone to Dad."

My increased stress and panic was making the babies unhappy again.

"No, you tell me what's going on right now," I choked out, "You didn't get Emily pregnant did you?!"

"NO! No! It's nothing like that! Let me talk to Dad, I can already tell you're freaking out. I can't be responsible for you going into labor."

The line started making weird noises, like button noises, as if someone was messing with the connection.

"Cole! Tell me right now!" I begged, my heart thudding and my stomach churning with anxiety.

"What is that noise? Something is breaking it—I love you, Mom!"

His sudden cry made me more nervous.

"Don't you dare go! I love you too but don't you dare hang up this phone! Fine, I'm handing it to your father. Tell him! Don't you _dare _go!"

I quickly shoved the phone at Jake, my bravery melting into a puddle on the floor.

"Cole? Cole? Are you there?" Jake called into the phone. He handed it back to me, a somber look on his face.

I redialed Oliver but each time it wouldn't go through. I tried Emily and Cole's cellphones but each time the line broke. I checked my service. Full bars.

I couldn't get my breathing normal and the babies were very upset. Jake pulled me off his lap and laid me on the couch. He pressed his palm over my heart and I felt like throwing up.

"Miley," he said sharply, "you need to calm down. Breathe. Deep breaths. Everything is going to be okay. Please. You are distressing the babies. You are going to go into early labor. Breathe. Do it for Adeline and Odette. Calm down. If you don't calm down I'm bringing you to the hospital."

His panic was only making mine worse, but I could feel the babies' distress and I just wanted them happy again. I breathed deeply and slowly and worked at getting calm. It took a minute, but I managed to get everything back to where it should be. Physically. I pressed down over Adeline at the same time Jake pressed over Odette. I nodded at him when they moved and we struggled to be happy. It took a few minutes, but they were back kicking happily and Jake talked to them like before, except his expression was stressed. His voice was soothing like satin but his posture screamed unease. He tried calling Cole back on every phone. Then he tried Oliver and Emily's phones.

"I'm sure a signal tower just got knocked over or something." Jake assured me, his soothing voice believable but his expression the opposite.

He kept me and the babies calm until dinner. Susan came back with sandwiches and five pillows. I felt like if I ate a bite I might be sick, but I forced myself to eat for Adeline and Odette. Jake asked Susan to watch over me while he put the pillows up.

"What's going on?" She asked me.

I kept my hands over my stomach and struggled to stay calm.

"My son was trying to tell me what was wrong and the phone messed up. We can't get in touch with anyone there." If I had just handed Jake the phone when Cole said to we'd know. I'm such a fucking idiot.

"Oh, I'm sure he's okay." Susan patted my hand. "What do you think about that bread? It's my favorite."

I made painful small talk while inside I was screaming.

Susan left after Jake and I ate and the dishes were done. I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I stumbled into pajamas. I washed my face and then laid down in a trance of false tranquility. Jake handed me a pillow and I rolled on my side and put it under my stomach. Jake wrapped his arms around me tightly and I cried while he stroked my stomach, trying to make our children that were here and safe believe everything was okay. I felt bad for crying, but it was either that or screaming.

I eventually drifted off to sleep. In my dream I was on that fucking Ferris wheel again. Except this time I was at the bottom and the Ferris wheel was floating in the air. I kept praying it wouldn't come crashing down and crush me but it kept falling. I looked up to the top and I saw Cole up there and I remembered how my mother climbed out. I tried to climb out to reach him but I couldn't move. Then, my seat moved up and up until I was on the top and he was on the bottom. I watched in horror as the Ferris wheel came crashing down and down and it hit the bottom and he disappeared. I was screaming, screaming, screaming and the more I screamed the farther away he seemed to be. Then I felt that he was around me somewhere and I was looking, looking, looking, always looking, but I never saw him. All I saw was a velvet purple sky, a cheaply painted neon colored Ferris wheel, and the face of the man who was my personal Satan in every way possible.

* * *

The dead of night.

Jake's hand, gentle but firm in my own, jerked me out of my subconscious nightmare and into a much realer one. The room was ebony and I was breathing heavily. My first thought was that I was panicking and distressing the babies but something didn't feel right.

He pulled me into a sitting position and looked at me. I struggled to see his eyes in the dark. He pressed a finger over his lips and in the moonlight I saw the complete terror in them. I bit down on my lip to keep from crying and asked him with my eyes. I looked around and at myself, making sure the babies and everything were okay. He gently grabbed my chin and redirected my face so I was looking at him. His eyes darted to the window in this room that dropped off onto the balcony. Fire escape. I nodded.

He slowly pulled the blankets off me and we carefully got out of the bed, diligently trying to avoid the creaking. We stepped quietly over the floor and to the door and I felt Adeline and Odette move, light as a butterflies wings inside of me. Jake struggled with the window and slowly slid it open. He was pushing the screen off when a crimson voice broke the canary silence.

"Going somewhere?"


	33. Conquest

**A/n:** Sorry for the wait! Thank you so much for the reviews and thanks to my betas!!

* * *

** If the tiger shall protect her young,  
Then tell me how did you slip by.  
All my instincts have failed me for once  
I must have somehow slept the whole night." Rachael Yamagata, "Elephants"

* * *

**

Jake grabbed my arms and pulled me behind him. My heart beat so hard it hurt and I leaned my head against him, hoping this was all a terrible, terrible nightmare. I clasped my hands onto his forearms so he didn't try to do anything stupid that would get him hurt.

A light flickered on and I squinted against the sudden brightness. A cool breeze graced me from the open window, and I wondered why Jake had stopped our escape instead of keeping it up. We probably could have gotten _somewhere_.

"Move."

Jake hesitated and there was a prolonged silence that I did not understand before he moved to my side, exposing me to the monster. He firmly pulled me to his side, and he was shaking. I glanced at his face and felt a deep sickness seep into my stomach. He had the beginnings of a very nasty bruise painted over his right cheekbone. What happened while I was sleeping?

I pulled all my hatred and repulsion for the man standing in front of us and I shoved it into a glare. I unleashed the glare on him, and he laughed a laugh that echoed hollowly around the room.

Things didn't make sense. Why was Jake doing whatever he said and why were we just standing here? I glanced at Jake's face again and he had the furious desperation of a man with a gun being held to his head. I bit hard on my lip and breathed as calmly as possible.

"You missed a lot while you were sleeping. I was going to wake you up, but I figured it would be okay to just catch you up later." Luke said casually. He walked over to me and set a hand on my stomach. I flinched into Jake and he glared at Luke before pushing his hands away.

"Don't touch her." He hissed darkly.

Luke looked innocently at us. "I was just going to offer you two take a seat. She's obviously not in a condition to be standing there when she could be resting."

Jake quickly pulled us down onto the bed. Sitting made me feel even more frightened. I didn't like him standing over us. It made me wonder what he was dangling over Jake's head that was making him so compliant.

I watched Jake's face again and under the dominance of the desperation there was terrible, sickening guilt. He felt my gaze and looked over, offering me a shaking, half-hysterical smile.

"I wasn't expecting him to be here. I was certain that you wouldn't permit him to come where you knew he could be hurt. But I guess being with child changes a few things. I also wasn't expecting you to leave your child with someone else. You made this arguably easier for me." He curiously opened the closet and looked through it as he spoke.

I looked at Jake and asked him the question most on my mind. _What is he going to do to us? _No words were spoken but he understood. He pulled up his shoulders a little bit and then let them drop. Somehow that made me even more frightened.

Luke pulled a small box from the shelf and I moved forward unconsciously, as if to stop him. The word _No _died on my lips before the _o _could be uttered. Jake quickly grabbed my hand, intent on making me stay.

Luke pulled the lid off the box and looked down at the contents with general interest. He pulled a photograph out—the first of many in the box—and tears soaked my eyes. I bit down hard on my lip and prayed he would just leave it alone, just let it be. But I knew he wouldn't just how I knew he'd never leave me alone, never let me be.

His eyes studied the picture longer.

"Pretty baby." He turned to Jake, "She has your eyes." He coldly took it in both his hands and I shuddered as he slowly ripped it in half. I cried and pulled against Jake's hand, trying to get to the man who was destroying the only thing I had left of my daughter. Luke took both the halves and put them on top of each other and ripped that in half. I pulled harder against Jake's hand and he reluctantly yanked me into his arms, holding me in such a tight grip it hurt. I tried to look away as he continued to rip it up but I couldn't.

Seeing your soul ripped into sanguinary, saturated shreds in front of your very eyes is captivating.

Luke pulled the rest of the photographs out and threw the box on the floor.

"Jake," I breathed into his ear. I meant to ask him for help but the rest of the sentence clung to my tonsils, begging not to be exposed to this evil world.

"I know," He whispered in a broken voice. He rubbed my back and kept his eyes shut. "I know."

"Well, don't you three just look happy," Another shredded photograph.

Jake and I sat there in a puddle of pain and powerlessness as he ripped all we had left into small pieces. He smiled at us as he stood in a pile of our memories.

"Hold on, I'll be right back. I need to get something. Don't even think about going anywhere." His voice hardened at his last statement and he walked out of the room, purposely kicking around the shreds of photographs as he did. As soon as he was gone, Jake's painful grip loosened, and I pushed myself out of his arms and off the bed. I collapsed on the floor besides the shreds of photographs and cried as I tried to find pieces that could be pieced back together. Jake sat beside me and didn't try to comfort me as I sobbed. I guess he realized that this was beyond his embrace.

"That was all I had of her, Jake. I will never remember her face. I…I'll never be able to see her again. That was all I had." I cried and my tears made small circles on the top of my stomach. It wasn't fair. He had taken her life from me, he had taken my life from me, and now he was taking my memories. I couldn't even remember her tiny face. It was as if she had never even existed.

"My mother still has pictures, Miley. Don't worry." His words were so soft that my ears almost didn't pick them up. My heart mended slightly.

"Come on now, don't be so nostalgic." Luke chided as he walked back in. Jake and I stood back up. My sudden fury made me want to walk over there and strangle him to death. Jake sensed this and he quickly pulled me to him again.

"Now, let's get Miley up to speed." Luke said in a voice that was almost cheerful. He pulled a gun from a bag and Jake yelled, pushing me behind him again.

"Calm down, there aren't any bullets in this." Luke's voice was annoyed, as if we were children that were overreacting.

"What did I tell you about doing that? Move." His voice had the undertone of fury. Jake moved back to my side. Luke smiled and waved when he saw me and I glared, wishing more than anything that looks could impose physical pain.

He glanced at Jake and smiled.

"Don't believe me?"

He calmly walked over and pressed the cold, gaping mouth of the gun to my temple. I shivered and my heart tried to escape through my mouth. I grabbed Jake's arm, panic rendering me speechless. He grabbed my waist and tried to move me away, but Luke pressed down on the trigger before he could. I waited for pain but nothing happened.

Luke pulled the gun off my head and walked back to where he was before. He smiled at Jake's anger and my shock.

"Told you."

Jake was so furious he was shaking more than before. He pulled me to him in what could only be explained as a furious, relieved hug. He pressed my face into his chest so hard my nose hurt and he gripped my back to tightly his nails dug into my skin. I wrapped my arms around him, unsure what was going to happen but sure I was glad I was with him.

"The point of this gun was to add visual to my little statement." Luke continued. Jake's heart beat so hard I could feel it against my cheek. "You two are going to stay here until I decide what to do with you. You are not going to talk to anyone. You will not escape. You will not call the police. You want to know how I know that?"

I could hear him crossing the room. His hand roughly grabbed the back of my head and he turned it painfully so I was looking at him.

"Because if you do, your son dies."

I wanted to look at Jake, but Luke's hold on my head was too strong. All I could do was look at him while my heart felt like it was shattering.

"You don't know where he is." I whispered. But even I didn't believe my words.

"Yes I do. All I have to do is make one phone call and he is dead. I'm not promising a quick death either. It depends on how angry you make me." He waved the gun in front of my face, "My wife is living in the same house as your son, and she has one of these. She is waiting for the word. Once I give it, he is gone and it would be all your fault."

"Alyssa," I whispered. He nodded, an evil smile plastered to his face.

"I hear the two of you have met! Quite a catch, don't you think? Of course you probably won't feel too highly for her when she murders the only living child you have. How many Ryan children would that make? My, my you would practically have your own section of the cemetery! I wonder what the cops would think. Two is a tragedy, three is suspicious." He held my face tighter and I could feel Jake's fury and pain. "Tell me, how is your son's pain tolerance?"

In a flash of flesh and red, Jake's fist connected powerfully with Luke's jaw. I watched in shock as he flew back and slammed the back of his shoulder into the corner of the nightstand. He yelled out in pain, and I thought of the cut on the back of my shoulder. He deserved to have everything he had done to me done to him.

Unfortunately, I saw no blood leaking as he stood up. His evilly cheerful countenance perished and a fury that made me shake took over. From his pocket he pulled out the same knife that was responsible for all my stitches and I watched in fear as he walked toward Jake. I looked around me and my eyes fell on the lamp. If he tried to hurt Jake I was going to grab that lamp and smash it over his head.

But he didn't go toward Jake. Instead, he yanked me away from him and held the knife gently over my stomach. My blood turned to sharp ice. Adeline and Odette kicked and for once I prayed they wouldn't. I didn't want any attention drawn to them.

"No, please," I choked out, frozen by my horror and fear. My hand clenched around his wrist and I felt tears gliding from the corners of my eyes. The babies seemed to flinch back, as if they realized what was happening.

"Do you hate your children, Jake?" Luke's voice was calm, but he was not. All I could do was plead with him. I kept my hand around his wrist and an eye on the knife, waiting to shove it away if it got too close.

"No! Please, put the knife down. Please, I'm sorry, please!" Jake's voice was so helpless it made me even more frightened.

Luke's voice was resolute. "Things like that result in punishment and you need to learn that." He pressed down more.

"Oh my God," Jake screamed, and it sounded like he was actually talking to God. "Please! Don't do this!"

Luke turned away from Jake and looked at me. He inspected my tears and pulled the knife away. I pushed away and ran to Jake, but for the first time I didn't feel safe in his arms.

I heard Luke's voice at the doorway.

"Another move like that, and someone _will _die."

Jake and I laid down on the bed and for a while all I could hear was his breathing and my crying. His arms were warm and my heart was cold.

"What are we going to do?" I whispered into his skin.

The silence was painful.

"I don't know." He admitted. "Whatever he tells us, I guess."

I pressed a shaking hand over my stomach to try and show Adeline and Odette that it was mostly safe now. They moved around and one of them kicked lightly.

"He'll kill them," I muttered, tears somehow weaving into my words, "He'll kill us."

Jake pressed a warm hand to the small of my back and kissed me so sadly that my heart ached.

"He is going to kill us either way. If we do what he says, it gives Cole time to get away. It gives Adeline and Odette time to grow so maybe they can be saved. He is going to spend a long time thinking about a terrible way to kill us, so if we just do as he says until then and keep the peace, not all of our family has to die."

I cried into his neck and he touched my legs, my collarbones, my shoulder blades, as if he was never going to touch me ever again.

I didn't want to die. I didn't want to leave Cole and these babies alone. I didn't want Jake to die. I didn't want any of this to happen.

"I love you," The words were a reflex and a plan.

"I love you too. I always will." He kissed my cheek. He recited lines from scripts until my eyes were heavy and the babies were asleep. I struggled to stay awake, and part one of my plan was complete as I heard him drift off to sleep. I pretended to be asleep until I heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. I worked to keep my charade believable.

I couldn't tell you how long it was before things sounded safe. It felt like days but was probably only an hour. I had never been so cautious in my life as I slowly climbed out of the bed and walked across the floor. I paused at the doorway. I heard the heavy breathing of someone sleeping from the living room.

Love was the only thing going through my mind as I crept into the kitchen. When you love you protect. When you love you protect. I grabbed the biggest knife I could find. When you love you protect. When you love you protect.

I walked into the living room and watched him sleeping on the couch and I thought about all he had done to me. He would not hurt my family. He would not ever, ever touch them. He wouldn't touch anyone ever again.

My hatred propelled me forward, and I watched his chest rise and fall, my eyes locking over where his heart was. I didn't know how to kill a man. It couldn't be easy. But right then it sure felt like it was.

I held the wooden handle between both my hands and moved it over the spot. I imagined the sound as it pierced through and the bright red of the blood and I couldn't help but shudder.

Do it.

I gripped the handle with more determination.

_Do it. _

The words seemed to be whispered into my ear. _Do it. Do it, Miley. Kill the man who killed your babies and wants to kill everyone you love. Kill the man who raped you, who cut you, who tore up the pictures. Kill the man who doesn't deserve to breathe. Kill him like he killed you. _

The word murder was so terrible in my mind that it seemed to jam my arms. It isn't murder to kill a beast. But it _was_. I was so furious with myself that I was crying in anger. _Kill him! Kill him! You are not above killing this man! You have to protect your children, your husband! If you don't do this you are putting your morals over their lives! _

There had to be another way. There had to be a way to protect them without killing him. But there wasn't. The only way to end this was to have him die in front of my own eyes and then to kill him again and again until I was positive he was dead.

I took a deep breath and prepared myself. But before I could do anything else, the knife was wrenched from my hands and the blade was pressed against my forearm. I bit my tongue and refused to cry out as it cut me. My arm burned and seared in intense pain and I walked slowly away from him. What had I _done_? Now he was going to kill someone. What had I done? God, what had I done?!

* * *

**COLE'S POV:**

Oliver would not let the girls in my room, or me in the girl's room, so we had nowhere to talk. My panic from the phone call with my mother had escaladed from small to frantic and I really needed to talk through my ideas with Emily and Caitlyn so we could figure out what to do. But we sure as hell couldn't do that with Caitlyn's mom watching us.

I stood up from the couch and decided we were going to have to go outside again. But I didn't think Oliver would even let us do that. But maybe if we snuck…

I texted Emily and Caitlyn and told them to meet me at the swing. Oliver was sitting right near their door so I couldn't go to their room and ask.

A minute later, they casually walked out. I heard Oliver ask where they are going.

"Just outside. We need some fresh air." Emily lied easily.

They glanced at me when I walked past, and I could tell they had something important to tell me.

I stood up and quickly walked to the door with them. We stayed silent, intent on not talking until we were outside. My hand was on the doorknob when a voice stopped us. But not the one I expected.

"Where are you kids going?"

We all glanced frightfully at each other. We turned around and I glared at Caitlyn's mother.

"Outside." Emily said shortly.

"No, you need to stay inside. Come on now. Go to your rooms."

Caitlyn moved forward but Emily and I stayed in our spot. I turned back around and pushed the door open.

"Cole." She said sharply. "Did you hear me? Did I stutter? Go to your room."

I exhaled angrily and turned back around.

"You are _not _my mother."

She looked at me, a flabbergasted expression on her face. "Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter?" I mocked her.

She glared. "You are a very disrespectful, rude child and if your mother was here to hear this it would break her heart! She raised you better than this. You should be _ashamed._"

"No. It wouldn't break her heart. She raised me to put self-righteous bitches who think they can control me in their places."

She was seething in anger and I turned around, satisfied with my work.

"Now, I'm going outside."

I walked out in the warm sunshine and was pleased to see no one stopped me. But my happiness was short lived. She grabbed my arm and pulled me with a force I hadn't expected. Once we were out of earshot of everyone, she dropped my arm.

"You know, that is practically child abuse."

A hint of repulsion at herself in her eyes tipped me off that she wasn't into this. She slapped me across the face. I refused to even flinch.

"Okay, that _is _child abuse. Keep your hands off me. And keep your husband's fucking hands off my mother, you bitch." I wanted to punch her in her face but hitting a woman felt wrong, even if it was an evil one.

Her eyes widened. I could tell she didn't know I knew and I regretted letting her know that I did almost immediately.

"Does Caitlyn know?" She sounded apprehensive. I couldn't decide what to tell her. Would one answer be more beneficial to us all than the other? If she knew that Caitlyn knew what would she do? Would she try to explain things to Caitlyn and get her on her side?

"Does your daughter know that her parents are murderers, you mean? I'll let you decide that one on your own."

"I don't want to kill you, Cole." She whispered. "But if he tells me to, I will do it in the blink of an eye and in a few days I will forget all about it."

I wanted to say _"In order to kill me you have to catch me." _And just run far away. But I couldn't leave Caitlyn and Emily, and I didn't have any money or any way to get there.

"Who says you can even kill me?" I sneered. "You can't keep an eye on me all the time without raising suspicions. You can't stop me from telling someone. You can't kill me."

She smiled a sardonic smile.

"Has your mother ever told you about my husband?"

I glared and nodded.

"Then you should know he's much more thorough than that. Here's what happens. If they try to run away or call anyone, you die. If you try to run away or call anyone, I tell him and he kills her babies. You see, he is saving their lives to do something much worse with."

If I stay, I'm enabling the trapping of my parents and unborn sisters. But if I go, I'm killing them. But if I don't do something, he's going to kill them slowly and painfully.

I honestly wanted to crawl into my closet and cry like a small child.

"You may think he's clever, but he is a sick, evil man and you are just as sick and evil and I can't wait until you both burn deep in Hell for the rest of eternity." I spat at her feet and took off running back toward the house. I'd never felt so young or helpless in my life. What I would give to just be back at home, in my room, being neglected and ignored! At least then we're all safe. And for once all I wanted was just to hug my mommy and daddy like I was five and hear them say everything was going to be okay. But it wasn't. That…bastard was going to kill my parents. My mother and my father were going to be killed, and I was never going to see them again.

I ran past the house and into the woods. I sat on the pines and leaves and cried. I needed them. They can't die. I need them. I love them. I never even got to tell them how much I do love them. I never got to thank them for all they have done for me. I never got to forgive my mother. I will never hear their voices, I will never see their faces, and I will be an orphan.

Hesitant footsteps made me look up. Emily slowly sat down beside me on the forest floor. I wasn't embarrassed even though I knew I probably should have been.

"I heard her talking on the phone. I know what's happening and what will happen. I am so sorry, Cole." She had tears welling up in her eyes and I realized that she had known my parents longer than I had. My mother held her before she even held me.

Emily bit her lip and wrapped her arms around my waist. She rested her head awkwardly against my chest and I didn't breathe for a moment. I finally came to my senses and wrapped my arms around her body. She smelled like home.

It hurt a tiny bit less then and I finally remembered I was a man. I took the pain and stopped crying. I had to be strong for Emily. This was just as scary for her as it was for me. Well, not really, but it was still a little scary.

"We should tell my dad." She whispered.

"We can't. He'll kill the babies." I argued.

She looked up at me.

"But if we don't, he'll kill your parents."

So this was it then. I had to pick between the lives of my parents and the lives of my sisters.

"He might kill all four. Just because we tell Oliver doesn't mean he can save them. As soon as that man hears that there is help on the way he'll probably just kill everyone." The harsh and painful truth sounded even worse once I spoke it.

I didn't realize I was crying again until she touched my cheek.

"Oh Cole," She whispered painfully. She somehow ended up on my lap again and my reflex was to push her off in case her dad came out here. But she was comforting and I needed comfort.

"We'll figure this out," She promised, "We will find a way to keep everyone safe."

I wanted to believe her so much. But I just didn't see how.

A few moments later we heard heavy breathing and frantic footsteps. Caitlyn collapsed beside us.

"How did you get out of that window?" She panted, "It's a really far drop."

Emily slid off my lap and sat beside me. Caitlyn took one look at my face and burst into tears of her own. She wrapped her arms around me too. In any other circumstance, having two girls all over me would be Heaven.

Emily pulled Caitlyn off me and looked seriously at us.

"We have to fix this. We are smart. We can do this. Caitlyn, in order to figure out how to convince them not to do this, we need to know all you know about your parents. Start with the one who started all this." Emily was logical and sensible and spoke with convincing confidence and hope. But it still wasn't enough. She was suggesting that maybe there was a great secret about Luke or his wife that would get them to stop all this, which clearly said she couldn't think of any flaw in the plan.

"Oh gosh." Caitlyn muttered, "What all do I tell?"

"Everything."

Caitlyn sighed and settled against the trunk of a tree.

"Well, he was born to scientists. A lot of people in his family are scientists. They work in and out of bases in Antarctica. My dad was raised there half the time. His mother, his brother, and himself would fly out to Malibu during the winter months and stay there. His father beat his mother and ignored him, his mother verbally abused him and neglected him, and his brother got everything. His mother's favorite thing to tell him was that he was stupid, worthless, and lazy but he would get whatever he wanted because he was so handsome. She'd say "If God cared anything about you he would have given you a brain as good as your looks". He started getting really angry when his teachers would pass him just because of his appearance and aura. He went searching for challenges, for things he had to use his brain to get. He wanted to do something that nobody thought he could do so he could say "Hey, Mom, look what I did with my intelligence", or at least that's what I think. At first he started out with innocent things, like joining the chess team or math team. But people would be shocked by his appearance or intimidated and frightened by him and let him win. He tried cleverly sneaking into the mall and stealing three gaming systems, but when he got home and showed his mother she thought he just conned money out of people to buy it. The older he got, the worse her verbal abuse got. I think it drove him insane."

She fell silent. I wanted to feel sorry for her father, but I couldn't. Yeah, it sucks his life was shitty. But it isn't an excuse for what he did to my mother and father. My mother neglected me for a few years, but I didn't turn out like that whack job.

Emily thought and I could tell by the expression her face that we had no hope whatsoever.

"Tell me about your mother."

You can say a lot of things about Emily Eve Oken, but you can't say she isn't persistent.

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**MILEY'S POV:**

I wrapped my arms around my stomach. My babies. He couldn't kill my children.

"Please don't hurt them. Please. Don't hurt Cole. Please." I begged, "Hurt me. But please don't hurt them. Don't hurt my children. Don't hurt my husband. Don't hurt anyone. Please. Just leave us all alone."

I felt the blood from my arm seeping into my shirt and I cried even more. He climbed up from the couch and walked toward me, knife in hand.

He pressed it against my neck.

"I could slice your throat for what you did. I could slice your husband's throat, your babies' throats, and your son's. But we both know you wouldn't have done it. Isn't that right?" He gently stroked my face with the hand that had the knife and took my hand with his other. He grasped my middle finger and before I could do anything he placed his palm on the top of it and slammed down. I heard and felt it break and it hurt so badly I screamed. The pain was sharp, red hot, and pounding and it made my stomach hurt. I was afraid to move it. He grabbed it and bent it in the other direction and it hurt so badly I almost passed out. I swayed on my feet.

"Don't let it happen again."

Jake came running in then, his hair disheveled and fear etched in his face. He rushed over to me.

"What did you do to her?!" He screamed at Luke. I could tell it was physically hurting him how badly he wanted to kill Luke.

I held my hand out and away from me to keep anything from jostling my finger. He eyed my swollen and awkward looking finger and my bloody forearm. He quickly led me into the bathroom and locked the door after us. I stared at the water as he ran a washcloth underneath it. He cleaned off the cut and announced it was pretty shallow. He cleaned it with rubbing alcohol and put Neosporin on it and a Band-Aid over that. My finger was terrible. He sat me on the side of the tub and hurried into the kitchen. He got ice and made me hold it on there until he found medical tape.

He frowned at me.

"This is going to hurt." He apologized beforehand. I avoided his eyes because my pain was enough. I nodded. He gently pulled it straight up and I cried out again, unable to stop it. He bound it to my index finger with the medical tape until I couldn't even move it if I wanted to. Once I was patched up we sat in painful silence.

"What were you doing, Miley?" I was horrified to hear tears in his voice, "Were you trying to get yourself killed? The babies? Cole? Please tell me what you were trying to do because I don't understand."

He looked everywhere but me, and the pain from his tears paralyzed me. My breathing was painful. My heart suffered. My finger throbbed with hot pain. My guilt strutted around me shamelessly.

"I was trying to protect my family." I whispered.

The answer hung there in the silence and I could hear the slow ticking of the clock.

"Do you know how scared I was?" He whispered, "I woke up and heard you screaming in pain. I thought…I thought he'd killed you."

My guilt circled around and around my head like the stars you see in cartoons when the character hits their head. What _was_ I doing? I couldn't save myself. I couldn't save anyone.

"I'm sorry." I sniffed.

He turned around and pulled me into his arms. He swatted the guilt away, and I watched it hide behind the shampoo and soaps, just lurking until it discovered a chance to latch onto me once more.

"You can't do that again. Promise me you won't do that again. Promise me you won't go anywhere without me. Promise." He pleaded.

The shock of the pain was still going through my system. Guilt was hissing.

"I promise." I breathed.

He kissed my face at least ten times before he replied.

"I will do everything I can to keep you and our children safe. But if I can't, you know how much I love you."

"Don't say that," I argued, my own tears making an appearance. "Don't talk to me like it's the last time we'll see each other."

He rested a hand on top of my stomach and Adeline and Odette nudged at him. He pressed his lips to my ear, but not in a kiss. He held his face there and offered me a whispered slice of fear and vulnerability.

"But what if it is?"

I didn't have an answer to that.

We showered and the warm water didn't help relax us at all. He was thinking hard about something and I knew he was trying to find a way to fix this. Even if he could come up with something, he couldn't tell me for risk of Luke hearing it. We dressed in the humid bathroom air and an esoteric scintilla of defeat in his eyes made me just want to sleep.

Once we were back in the bed, he made me promise I wouldn't do anything stupid again. Once I did, he allowed himself to drift off, and I tried to follow his example. It took me an hour, but I finally did. The daylight outside suddenly meant nothing. All there was to do was sleep and hope. Sleep and hope. Sleep and hope.

I drifted off to sleep and landed in a Ferris wheel, again. The sky was a bottomless, bubbling blood red. This time I was alone. Completely alone. The Ferris wheel did its slow rotations for hours and I just sat there. Somehow this upset me more than Luke being in the other compartment.

I woke up to Jake whispering softly. It took me moment to realize he was praying.

I could hear Luke on the phone in the living room. Jake finished his prayer with more tears. He held me closer to him. Everything is fucked up.

"Jake?" I whispered.

He jumped slightly.

"Yes?"

I kissed him and wiped his tears off his face.

"This is not the last time you will lay beside me. We will live to see our great-grandchildren." I made myself believe the words so he would too.

He searched my eyes and suddenly an idea weaseled its way into the lobby of my mind. It kicked its shoes off and reclined in a chair, making itself comfortable. Fear and Hopeless brought it drinks and snacks. Hope and Perseverance cheered in the corner and shared a cookie.

"We _will _be okay."

And this time I believed it.


	34. Contraction

**A/n: **Sorry for the wait. I won't be able to update until sometime next week because I have a lot of projects due at school. Thank you so much for the reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

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**"Because we have spoken everything, everything short of I love you right where you are, from right where I am. Somewhere between unsure, and a hundred." -- The Fray, "Hundred" **

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__I had just gotten to the most intense part of my book when I heard a strangled cry. Panic rose inside me like the tide and I quickly closed the book and set it on the nightstand. I pushed myself out of bed as best I could and walked (or waddled) as quickly as possible to Cole's room. I was nine months pregnant, three days past my due date, and I could not walk like a human anymore. The only good thing my stomach provided was a lovely book prop. _

It's a good thing Jake isn't here, _I thought as I struggled up the stairs. He hadn't let me walk up stairs in months, convinced it was going to knock me into labor. Frankly, I'd welcome labor. _

_Cole's door was open and I could see his blonde head sitting up in bed. His cries made my heart ache and I walked faster. Halfway into his room, I tripped over his gigantic stuffed dinosaur named Otislosaurus. A deep sickening feeling settled over me as I grasped at his dresser for balance. I narrowly avoided falling down. Maybe Jake wasn't so extreme with enforcing the bed rest. But the reason I was on bed rest was to prevent premature labor. I'm way past my due date, and even the doctor said I could ease up with the bed rest. Unfortunately, Jake inherited Alana's obsessive worrying and Jim's urge to protect. _

_I climbed up the short platform that Cole's bed was on and he wrapped his arms around me as soon as I sat down. He cried into my neck and I rubbed circles into his back. His hair was sticky with sweat. _

"_Coley," I soothed, "its okay. It was just a nightmare. Everything is okay now." _

_He shook his head and clutched me closer, his cries gaining momentum. I moved so my back was against his headboard and I pulled him up with me. He curled into my side and rested the side of his face on my chest. I kissed his damp head and held his hand. When had it gotten so big? It seems like just yesterday it could wrap around my thumb and still have space to spare. _

_Joy made flailing movements and I knew if she had the room she would have kicked. She loved Cole. _

_It took Cole minutes to calm down enough to talk. I think he has my dreaming habits. _

"_Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked gently. Cole sat up and wiped his snotty nose on his arm. I cringed but refrained from scolding him. I didn't think this was the correct moment for a lesson. I reached over onto his nightstand and gave him a tissue. _

"_I don't need it," he hiccupped. I set the tissue down and hugged him again. He rested his head in the crook of my neck and hiccupped more. I laughed lightly and rubbed his back, as if that would help get rid of his terrifying nightmares and incessant hiccupping. Somehow it seemed to. _

"_Mom?" His voice was sleepy and content. _

"_Hmm?" _

"_Can automatic bombs hit our house?" _

_I pulled him back so I could look at his face. His lower lip trembled and a line of sweat beaded and glittered on his brow. I wiped the moisture of terror off his forehead and kissed it. _

"_Do you mean an _atomic _bomb?" I asked gently. Eight year olds shouldn't be having nightmares about things like that. He shouldn't even know about terrible things like that. _

_He nodded. He leaned against my side and I smoothed his hair. His eyelashes cast shadows down his cheeks and his sweet eyes swam with tears. Who filled my baby's head with such terrifying information? Surely they aren't teaching them those things at school. _

"_Well," I tried to think of a way to hedge around the question so as not to scare him, but not lie at the same time, "they _could_, but no bad people want to blow up our house." He didn't need to know that if an atomic bomb was dropped anywhere near us we'd be killed too. _

_Cole yawned. "That bad man would." _

_I froze. My heart hammered hard inside my chest. _

"_Bad man? Don't worry about bad men, honey. We're safe from all the bad men. This is your home, and nobody can hurt you inside your home." _

_I regretted the comforting words as soon as they were spoken. It was so hard to reassure and be truthful at the same time. I don't know how my parents ever did it. _

"_They were here. In my dreams. They dropped a big autom—atomic bomb out of the tummy of a gray plane and everything caught on fire and everything was burning." He cried again as he saw images his innocent mind should never be haunted with. _

"_Where did you hear about atomic bombs, Coley?" I held him closer as he sobbed more. He raised his arm to wipe his nose again and I quickly pressed the tissue into his palm. _

"_This morning when Daddy was reading that book to you. I was in the potty and I could hear it." He sniffed and hiccupped again. His memory came to me easily. This morning, Jake read me a few pages out of a book that was being turned into a movie while I was making breakfast. We were both appalled by how horrific it was and I felt like shit that Cole had heard that. If Jake had known he could hear I know he never would have read that out loud. _

"_I'm so sorry, baby. If we'd known you could hear it Daddy would have stopped reading it. That is a fictional story, it will never happen to us. Do you want to sleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed tonight?" _

_Cole wiped his nose on his arm again and I sighed. _

"_Can we watch _Jurassic Park_?" He asked. He looked up at me, his blue eyes wide and pleading. How do I say no to that? I smiled in the moonlight. _

"_Sure." _

_I carefully climbed off the bed and Cole took my hand as we walked downstairs. I glanced at the luminous clock on my nightstand as we walked in. Jake must be looking at the cologne. It doesn't normally take him two hours to go to the store and get peanut butter. But then again, he could be getting swarmed by a mob of obsessed teenage fan girls. _

_Cole jumped on the bed while I turned the television on. I frowned as I looked at how far down the movies where. That would involve getting down on the floor. That wouldn't be as much of an issue if I didn't have to get back up…_

"_LOOK HOW FAR I CAN JUMP, MOMMY! I CAN ALMOST TOUCH THE CEILING!" Cole's voice was high with excitement. I turned around to see him jumping precariously close to the edge of the bed. One wrong jump and he could fall and break his neck. _

"_Cole, stop jumping, please. Can you help me with something?" _

_He let himself fall onto the bed and he laughed as it bounced him up. He crawled off the bed and stood beside me. I pointed at the movies. _

"_Get the movie and put it in the DVD player." _

_He kneeled in front of the row of DVDs and picked out the one he wanted. He pulled the disk out and I grimaced as he touched the silver part. _

"_Baby, don't touch that part. Hold it by the edges." _

_He looked down at the way he was holding the DVD and dropped it. _

"_Oops!" He tried to pick it up by the edges. It took a lot longer than it should have, but he finally picked it up right. He placed it in the DVD player and shut it. He stood up and climbed back on the bed, lying in the middle of it. I turned the DVD player on with my toe. Once that was working, I grabbed the remotes and ignored the pain in my feet as I walked over to the bed. _

_I laid down and turned the light off. The previews turned the room blue. Cole yawned and snuggled beside me. I wasn't sure if a dinosaur movie was the best thing for him to be watching after a nightmare, but it seemed to make him comfortable enough. He pulled the blankets up to his shoulders. _

_We were barely one forth through of the movie when a sudden, excruciating pain stabbed at me. I gasped out at the pain and Cole jumped. I grabbed my stomach and felt fear trickle through me. Contractions. I tried to count but the pain was so terrible I couldn't focus on anything else. It was not this bad when I was in labor with Cole. Not at all. _

"_Mom? Mommy? Are you okay?" _

_I nodded and breathed deeply as the pain ebbed away. My mind was left reeling with the leftover memory of the pain and I sat in shock for a moment. Ouch. Something told me this labor wasn't going to be easy. I was equally scared and excited at the same time. _

"_Do I need to call 911?" He asked loudly. I shook my head and glanced at the clock. The doctor had said if I had four to six contractions two hours in a row then I should go to the hospital. I thought about calling Jake but I knew if I told him I had a contraction he would have an aneurysm in the middle of the fragrance aisle and crash on his way home. I practically had to push him out of the door earlier because he was so reluctant to leave. It wouldn't be time to go for a while. _

"_No, it might be time for the baby soon though." I explained, smiling to show him that this was a beautiful and good thing, not something to be scared of. _

_He jumped up, "REALLY?! Do I need to go get the bags?!" _

_I laughed. "No, just lay back down. It won't be time to go for a while." _

_He nodded and got back in his previous position. He touched my stomach and I tried to see his expression in the dim light. He looked kind of confused but the look of wonder was prominent. I smiled and hugged him gently. _

"_How are they going to get the baby out of there?" He asked curiously. _

_I really didn't know how to answer that one. I wished Jake was here. He was much better with words and explanations. _

"_Well," I hesitated, "I push it out." _

_He seemed to be considering this. He eyed my stomach again. _

"_Push it out of what? You can push your stomach off?" _

_I really didn't think the best time to be having this conversation was right now, but I didn't want to not encourage him to ask questions. _

"_Do you remember when we went to the baby's checkup and the doctor showed you that model of a baby inside a tummy?" He nodded. "Do you remember when she showed you how the baby turns so it's head it at the birth canal?" He nodded again. "Well, the mommy pushes the baby out of the birth canal." _

_He frowned. "Where's a birth canal? Does everyone have one?" _

_Gut-wrenching pain saved me from answering. I screamed out, the pain making me see little white dots in front of my eyes. I leaned forward, hoping it would alleviate the pain. It shouldn't hurt this much. I panted and tried to breathe through it. _

"_IS THE BABY EATING YOU ALIVE?!" Cole screamed. I breathed through the rest of the contraction. Once it passed, I collapsed back on the pillows. Cole flicked the side of my stomach. _

"_Stop it!" He yelled at the baby inside. I kept my eyes closed, relishing the freedom of pain. I heard the sound of small feet padding across the room and I opened my eyes. Cole pulled my cell phone out of my purse. He dialed the numbers carefully and I was so exhausted from that contraction that I didn't stop him. _

"_Dad? You need to come home! I think the baby is a Velociraptor and it's ripping and tearing its way out of Mom! She's right beside me. Okay. Here you go." _

_He crawled back into the bed and handed me the phone. I pressed it to my ear. _

"_Don't freak out." I greeted him. _

"_How far apart?" He demanded. _

"_This is my second one in the past like twenty minutes." I muttered. _

_His voice softened, "How bad?" _

_I considered lying but he'd see for himself when he got here. "Terrible. Ten times worse than my labor with Cole." _

_I heard the sound of a car door being shut. _

"_I'm home. I'll be in there in a second. Do you want to go to the hospital now or wait?" _

_I listened as he opened the front door. _

"_Wait. I'll be more comfortable here." _

_He hung up and appeared in the doorway a second later. Cole excitedly climbed down from the bed and ran to hug him. Jake kicked his shoes off but didn't make a move to change out of his work clothes. I should have probably gotten up and changed into clothes before the contractions got so close together I couldn't walk. But I figured my sweatpants were acceptable to use to ride to the hospital in. I'd be in a hospital gown as soon as I got there anyway. _

_Cole climbed back in the middle and Jake laid on the other side. He took my hand and offered me a warm smile that made me feel a lot better. _

_Jake and I pretended to watch the movie with Cole. My contractions got closer together and started lasting longer and I felt like I was being burned alive. _

"_You told me she wasn't dying!" Cole accused Jake, tears in his voice. I knew I was probably scaring him, but I couldn't help but cry out. It really, really hurt. _

"_She isn't!" Jake tried to reassure Cole, but he didn't sound so confident himself. I squeezed his hand tightly. _

_The second hour was nearing an end. _

"_Is it time for them to get that monster out yet?" Cole asked Jake. _

"_It isn't a monster, it's your sister." Jake told Cole firmly. Cole sighed. _

_We all three sat in silence for a few minutes. Cole turned to Jake. _

"_Daddy, where's a birth canal?" _

_Jake looked at me and raised an eyebrow. I shrugged. _

"_I'm in labor with your second child. It's your job to answer the first's question." _

_Jake exhaled. "Um, well, it's a part inside a girl's body. OH LOOK COLE! I THINK I SAW A DINOSAUR OUTSIDE THE WINDOW!" _

_Jake jumped up and ran to the window, peering out._

"_Dinosaurs don't exist anymore," Cole said in a voice that clearly stated he thought Jake was an idiot. But there was an undercurrent of doubt and he slid out of the bed and walked over to the window too. _

_And even through the suicide-worthy pain I smiled. In just a few days we would have another child here to raise. _

"_Oh! By the way dad, mommy went up the stairs while you were gone." _

_Jake ruffled Cole's hair and playfully glared at me. "What did I tell you? You went up stairs and now you're in labor." _

_I narrowed my eyes, "You got our eight year old son to spy on me? That's low." _

_He shrugged, "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." _

"_She also tripped!" Cole exclaimed happily. I glared at him. _

"_Traitor."

* * *

_"Are you okay?"

I jerked out of the past and slid clumsily into the present. Jake touched my cheek with warm fingertips and I smiled weakly at him. The sun was so warm as it radiated on us, but at the same time it was so cold.

I worked to stay cool and calm as a smooth hand reached onto my plate and spooned half the rice off my plate and onto theirs.

I avoided his face and forced myself to think of lyrics of my songs. I couldn't think of my plan. Luke had the uncanny ability of being able to read my thoughts from my facial expressions. My broken finger ached with pain today.

"Don't you know you aren't supposed to steal food from a pregnant woman?" I glared at the salt and pepper shakers. He laughed and sat down beside Jake and me as if he were actually welcome. Adeline and Odette were on kicking sprees and I watched them instead of the nightmare beside me. Their knobby knees and tiny feet were so beautiful in this hideous setting.

I rested my hands on my stomach. I knew it didn't protect them any more than usual, but it felt as if they were a little safer.

"Why can't you just leave us alone?"

I looked up. Jake's face was trembling with fury. Luke ate my food calmly. He set the fork down.

"I would if I could. This is just as imposing to me and my family as it is to you and your family."

Jake took a deep breath and clenched his fists.

"Oh yeah?" His voice was quiet with the effort it took him to keep his temper in check, "Did I rape your wife? Did I brainwash Miley into holding your child at gunpoint? Did I move in with you and your wife and threaten to cut out her unborn babies and slit their throats? No. I sure as _fuck _didn't."

Luke reached across the table and for a moment I thought he was going to strangle Jake. But he surprised us by grabbing a shiny, red apple out of the bowl in the middle of the table and offering it to me. I took it just to keep the peace and I felt like Snow White.

He took one himself. He bit into it and the crunch was very loud.

"You," He started. He chewed his bite thoroughly, "and your wife," he took another bite, "have harassed my mind for years."

I tossed the apple between my palms, careful to not let it hit my hurt finger. I balanced it on top of my stomach.

"Join the club." I whispered.

Luke snapped his fingers. "That reminds me! I wanted to run over my plans with you, to get some feedback, you know. So, I was thinking, you could listen to your son being killed and then, if that doesn't kill you, drink a bottle of ammonia. How does that sound to you two?"

I felt my breakfast climbing up my throat. I took deep breaths. He can't do it. I have. A plan. I have. A plan. I thought the words in separate sections as I inhaled and exhaled. I grasped onto them as if I were hanging out the window of a flying airplane and they were my parachute.

Luke got up from the table and walked back into the living room.

"You're right," He called, "it needs more work."

Jake moved his seat closer to mine. He took my hand.

"Are you okay? You know we won't let that happen, right?" He pushed back my hair and kissed the side of my face. I nodded.

"I know. I just wish—Oh!"

Achingly cold liquid nitrogen replaced my blood. My heart lurched.

A very uncomfortable tight feeling took over my stomach and I watched the apple roll off as my uterus became tight as a drumhead. I touched my stomach and fear made me queasy.

"Miley? What's wrong?" Jake panicked. I waited ten seconds but the uncomfortable feeling hadn't stopped. I smiled shakily at him.

"I just got kicked in the ribs." I lied quickly. I hid my hands under my legs because they were shaking so badly.

"Aw," Jake cooed. He extended a hand to touch my stomach and I quickly jumped out of the chair. If he had touched my stomach he'd know what was happening.

I smiled as well as I could. "That one was aimed at my bladder. I'll be right back."

I hurried down the hall. I barricaded myself in the bathroom and sat on the toilet. I pressed hands to my stomach. The feeling had ebbed away. That was a contraction, that much I knew. But it had to be Braxton Hicks. This was the correct time in the pregnancy for them. It felt just like one. No need to panic. If they started becoming painful I would....

I would what? If these were real contractions and I went into labor, there would be nothing I could do. I would have to have these babies here. Not only would they have underdeveloped lungs, but we wouldn't have any of the medical necessities. They wouldn't live. I was crying before my rational side could beat some sense into me.

Maybe this was a figment of my imagination. I was just thinking about being in labor. Maybe this wasn't real. I wouldn't be surprised if I was completely off my rocker and imagined a contraction.

That calmed me and I breathed deeply. The babies moved and kicked normally and I found the strength and bravery to leave the bathroom. Just my imagination.

However, to be on the safe side, I went straight to the bed and laid down. What if all this extra walking had really knocked me into labor? I would never, ever forgive myself.

Jake came in while later. He laid beside me and I thought of my plan, over and over, hoping he'd be able to hear it. Around my fifth time of repeating it, I felt another contraction begin. Imagination. Imagination.

But it couldn't be. I can't imagine that discomfort, can I?

I gently grabbed Jake's hand and rested it on top of my stomach. He jerked his hand off.

"Shit!" He jumped into a sitting position and his eyes were wide with terror.

My heart sunk. This was not my imagination. This was real.

"What do we do?" Jake's voice shook.

"I think it's just Braxton Hicks." I whispered. Please, God. Please. Don't let me go into labor. Please.

"And what if it isn't?"

It scared me that he was looking to me for answers. I smiled as best as I could and tried to lighten the situation.

"Well, how good are you at learning from example? Who says you need to go to medical school to be able to birth children. I'm sure you could do it by now,"

He paled and I could see in his face that he didn't think for one moment he could do that.

"We'll call Malone just to make sure it isn't labor," Jake patted his pockets for a full minute before he realized Luke had destroyed all of the phones. Jake's upper body sagged in defeat.

"If I did," He started, "and they died…" He didn't finish because he didn't have to.

I touched his arm.

"It's not labor."

My eyes bore into his and I tried to tell him. _I have a plan, Jake. Here's my plan: overdose Luke on Unisom Sleepgels Maximum Strength pills. He will go to sleep for a very long time, almost as if he's in a coma. There's a girl who was at the center who tried to kill herself using those and all that happened was she slept like a rock for three days. She woke up a few times during that time, but she was too sleepy to do anything but go back to sleep. Once he's knocked out, get rid of all the phones. Tie him up. Go to get Cole. Go far, far away. Australia, Scotland, France…anywhere but here. By the time he wakes up and gets lose, we'll be gone. _

I could tell he understood that I had a plan, but I knew we weren't close enough yet to actually be able to literally read each other's minds. An undercurrent of something in his green eyes surprised me. They clearly expressed desire. _Tell me,_ they asked—no, they _pleaded_—,_ I need hope. I need to know we have a chance. _I saw none of the same careful caution that kept me from telling him before.

"Jake—"

He held a finger to his lips. He reached under the bed and produced a notebook with a pen clipped to it. He pressed the notebook into my hands. He glanced at the closed door and listened for a second. He nodded at me after a few seconds.

I opened the notebook so fast I sliced my middle finger. It burned pleasantly with both the pain and relief that getting a story out of you brings.

"Do you remember that one time at Jackson's birthday party when he freaked out on you for touching my amazingly sexy abs?" Jake's voice was so natural that I was even convinced we had just been talking about memories. It took me a moment I realize he was starting a harmless, verbal conversation to cover the silent, incriminating one.

I smiled, the memory weaseling its way into my mind. It was so infuriating then but it was borderline hilarious now.

"How could I forget? He about ripped my heart out with his bare hands." My mind drifted to that dream I had had what seemed like years ago. I tore a blank page out of the notebook and wrote as fast as I could. My thoughts were all jumbled and weren't making any sense, almost like I was making love with Jake, except they were much more panicky.

"He never has liked me." Jake's voice wasn't hurt, but rational and conversational. He was right. Jackson never has liked him. Not even when we were younger. I secretly think he was envious of him. Looks, talent, money, heart, charisma…if Jake were a girl I'd probably despise him out of spite.

"Don't let him get to you. He can be a jerk."

I worked on the last few sentences.

"I don't. But I have to admit I purposely made his life harder a few times." He said cheerfully. His eyes scanned the first few sentences I wrote. I was on my second to last sentence. My hand cramped. I wanted to stop and flex my fingers but I knew that would be a stupid mistake.

"What do you mean?" I winced at how distracted my voice sounded. When having conversations I didn't normally sound like I was preoccupied with something else. One more sentence.

"Well…let's just say some of the times we hid in closets and bathrooms I knew he would walk in." I wanted to be angry. But I finished the last sentence at the same time his words registered in my mind. I burst out in slightly hysterical laughter. Half was out of nervousness and relief, and the other out of slightly evil humor. I talked while he read. My voice was rushed and out of breath as I tried to make this sound normal. My frenzied panic wasn't making that easy.

"I should be angry about that, but I think he deserved it. Besides, it's not like he walked in on anything past kissing and groping. He'll probably only be in therapy for half the time having him as a brother made me need it."

Heavy footsteps made my skin crawl with fear. Jake read faster, his face paling.

"Hurry," I whispered. The footsteps were nearing the door. He read until the very last moment. Once the doorknob turned, he shoved the piece of paper under the covers. He grasped my upper arms and pulled me to him, slamming his lips on mine so fast our teeth collided painfully. It didn't take me as long as it normally would have to understand because I'd already made the connection in my mind. Being unfocused and frenzied in panic sounds a lot like being absorbed in someone else to an outsider.

My stomach tightened uncomfortably again and I never found it so hard to kiss him before. Between the discomfort of my contraction and the discomfort of having Satan in my doorway, it was grueling to do. I could tell by the way our teeth kept hitting each other's that he was forcing himself just as much.

"PDA is very trashy."

Jake, always the actor, pulled away like he was electrocuted. His cheeks even colored in what Luke would assume was embarrassment. Too bad he didn't know Jake didn't blush when he was embarrassed. I struggled to ignore my stinging lips and sweaty palms and put on a façade appropriate for this situation.

Luke sat down on the edge of the bed and I subconsciously cringed away. He swung his legs onto the bed and turned so he was facing us and his legs were extended forward. He set them down and I bit on my lip as paper crinkled.

Jake and I met eyes and Luke smiled widely.

"I can honestly say I've never heard of a couple who's been married more than a decade kissing so pitifully." He moved closer to where the paper was. "Even if you were just bad kissers you would have fallen into a more graceful rhythm after ten minutes of it."

Jake moved closer to where the paper was by centimeters.

"You try kissing when you're scared for your life." He glared.

The moment action shined in Luke's eyes, I shoved my hand under the blanket and grabbed the paper. I shoved it down my shirt before I even thought it through.

"You act like that's going to stop me." He snorted. "If you forget, I've seen and felt just about everything on you."

I fought memories and nausea. Jake clenched his fists and made an angry sound. I focused my mind away from painful memories and onto how to get rid of this paper. If I ripped it up, there's no way I could get it into small enough pieces that he couldn't tape it back together. My panic took over my expression.

He sat back.

"Just give it to me. You know there's nothing you can do."

I was immobile. That was my only plan. He couldn't know about it. Without it, we had no hope.

Jake's fingers brushed the small of my back. I glared angrily at Luke and tried to keep the attention off Jake. His hand carefully moved farther up the back of my shirt. I leaned forward a little so my shirt would have space. He moved it up and around front until his fingers touched the edge of the paper. The sudden strangeness of this situation made me want to laugh. He slowly pulled the paper. The slight sound of crinkling pierced my ears and I screamed out. I quickly grasped my stomach. I thought about the pain I felt while in labor with Joy. I doubled forward more and Jake pulled the paper out from behind me.

"Baby coming?" Luke asked casually. _Babies, _I wanted to correct.

I screamed again and squeezed my eyes together tightly so they'd look like they were watering. Next time the actor needs to be the pregnant one. I didn't think I was very believable. Jake quickly fell into the role he would play if this was real. He grasped my hand and pressed a hand over my stomach.

"Miley?! What's happening?! Are you okay?" He turned to Luke, "Get out!"

He turned back to me and grabbed my face in his hands. He looked nauseous.

"Breathe. It will be okay. I will make everything okay. Breathe." I grabbed his hand tightly and squeezed it. He turned back to Luke.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" He screamed. Luke clapped slowly.

"Bravo. Quite the performance. If only I were a complete idiot. Then maybe I'd believe it."

Jake grabbed me and pulled me to him a tight hug that caught me off guard. He pulled back and turned me around so he could see me better. He sat in front of me, his back to Luke. His eyes locked with mine and he tucked my head against his shoulder. His arms didn't cross around me, which felt odd. He breathed in sharply and then seemed to be counting for a full minute. Then he moved me over the spot he just was and sat beside me with his left side just behind my back.

"This is ridiculous. Nobody believes you, Miley." Luke snapped. I wanted to see what Jake did with the paper, but I was too scared to tip Luke off that I didn't have it.

Luke growled and reached to take the paper from me. But then he froze, his eyes wide with confusion. He lifted the hand he had just rested on the bed as he moved forward. It was red. He looked at something else and stared in disbelief.

"What?" I breathed, my heart hammering painfully inside me. And for a moment, I could have sworn I felt two more nervous heartbeats added to my own.

A sudden warm wetness caught me off guard. I felt bone-shattering fear saturate me. I followed his gaze.

The white sheet seemed to be bleeding. The blood slinked farther and farther out as if it were an airborne epidemic attacking a town. It took me a stunned moment to realize the blood was coming from between my legs.

* * *

**COLE'S POV**:

Wall outlets are so weird. Whoever came up with that shape anyway? It's almost brutal looking.

The chime of water sloshing around tore my careful concentration. I looked closer at the wall; trying not to think about the fact a beautiful, naked girl was a few steps and a shower curtain away.

"Why are we here again?" I asked, my voice a little too high. Emily was perfectly content sitting on the toilet. But then again she wasn't physically attracted to her friend. And even if she was, everyone didn't have to know. Sometimes being a man was really aggravating.

"Because this is the only time Caitlyn's mom isn't watching her like a hawk." Emily explained. Caitlyn hummed and I tried not to think about her washing her hair.

"That you know of. She might have cameras," I carefully scanned the corners of the walls for secret cameras. "Besides, why are we in here when she is _actually _bathing? Couldn't we just go in here and turn the water on?" I knew I sounded whiny, but this wasn't fair _or _productive. I had to put all my focus on staying calm. I didn't have any spare brain power to think of a plan, which was what we were all doing in here in the first place.

Emily rolled her eyes like I was stupid. "Because, smart one, how would Caitlyn explain to her mother that she took a shower but yet she doesn't smell like soap and her hair isn't wet?"

She wasn't even taking a shower. She was taking a bath. At least a shower would be quick. She was just laying in the tub all…naked…and stuff.

Caitlyn stuck her wet head out of the shower curtain.

"Do you have a problem with the naked female body, Caden?" She asked seriously, her lip twitching. I shook my head for what felt like minutes before I remembered how to talk.

"Of course not. I just…umm…can't really focus in bathrooms. You should have seen me play hide and go seek when I was younger. If the only place left to hide was a bathroom I just forfeited. There was never any hope. There's just something about bathrooms that's just like a big mental block."

Emily snorted. "Yeah, it's called testosterone."

"Shut up." I snapped. She forced the smile off her face.

Caitlyn stuck her arm out of the bathtub. It was long and beautifully tan. The water glistened.

"Okay, this isn't working." I stood up quickly. "I'm just gonna go. Call me or something if you have any ideas." I started walking to the door and Emily suddenly fell down on the floor. She grabbed me by the knees and pulled me over. I stumbled and grabbed the counter for support. My fall had made her face dangerously close to places it wasn't supposed to be. Is this Hell? Does my role model really think I have this much self control?

She turned red and quickly sat down. She scooted back. I sat down quickly too, praying none of them would look down anytime soon. Could my life get any more awkward?

"You can't go," She muttered, "If they see you coming out we're in big trouble."

She was right. Dammit. I never thought being stuck in a room with a naked girl would be considered torture for me.

"You know, the sexual tension is really high. Maybe we should all just jump each other and get it over with." Caitlyn joked from behind the curtain. I laughed weakly only out of politeness.

"I call Caitlyn first!" Emily teased.

"Aw don't torture him with ideas of us being lesbians. I'm sure he's having a hard enough time as it is."

Emily snickered. "_Hard_ time is right."

Okay, seriously? Are they really doing this? I'm going to pretend they aren't making jokes about what I think they are.

"I'm glad you two find this funny." I grumbled.

Emily feigned innocence. "Find what funny?"

I changed the subject. "Okay, we're in here to make a plan, not to tease me."

"I'm thinking!" Caitlyn exclaimed.

Emily sighed.

"Go through your mother's life again, slowly. There has to be something we missed. Some loophole."

Caitlyn sloshed around more before settling.

"She was born to rich parents and went to a Catholic all-girls private school from first grade until twelfth grade. She has a little brother and her mother was pushy, misunderstanding, and scary. Her father was her favorite parent, for good reasons. I love my grandpa. Not that I don't love my grandma but…umm…where was I? Oh yeah. So she was really smart and was in almost all AP classes and she passed those with freakishly amazing grades…umm…she is terrified of failure. Did I say that last time? I can't remember. She felt suffocated in her good little life and when she met my dad at a party she just kind of let lose. Then she had me and they met up three years later and got married. She told me that he's everything she was forbidden to have growing up. And that's about it."

If I heard this story again I was going to slit my throat.

"Emily, there isn't anything we missed. Just face it. It's hopeless." I slumped against the counter. Emily took my hand and smiled, all teasing gone from her eyes.

"Don't worry, Cole. Maybe your parents have a plan."

I thought about the time I fell off the slide and literally scraped layers of skin off my knee. My mom had been the first person to rush over and hug me. Dad picked me up and fussed over the severity of it while Mom held my hand and kissed my forehead in a way that made all the worries disappear. Together, they had patched my knee up in record time. I remembered thinking that together, our family could do anything.

Maybe Emily was right. Maybe my dad's quick thinking and protectiveness and my mother's heart and self-sacrificing abilities had combined to form an amazing plan.

But I couldn't help but remember that both their helpful traits could be used against them easily.

* * *

**MILEY'S POV:**

I was shaking so hard my teeth knocked against each other. My breath seemed to be stuck in my throat as I stared dizzily at the blood. How had I not felt that before it seeped all out around me? Adeline and Odette kicked as if nothing was off. That much blood was severe, but I didn't feel the gut-wrenching cramping that miscarriages always had.

Jake was white as a sheet. He looked like he was going to pass out any minute. He wrapped his right arm around me and I pressed my face into his neck. I couldn't look at the red any longer. I couldn't do this anymore. This wasn't happening. This was all a terrible, terrible dream. I am going to wake up and Cole is going to be four and I am going to never, ever, ever make the decision to have another child. We will all move to Europe and be happy. I won't be disappointed or hurt. This won't be happening. If only I could wake up. Wake up, Miley. Wake. Up. Dammit! Wake _up_!

"Childbirth disgusts me. I'll be in the living room." Luke walked out, and I couldn't help but noticed how unsteady he looked.

He shut the door behind him and for a moment I laughed wildly. He was scared of childbirth, of all things.

"Miley," Jake's voice was soft and warm as it strolled into my ear, "come here."

He moved to the foot of the bed. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. He wrapped an arm around my torso and pulled me out of the pile of blood. I jumped as the hot blood touched my side. I look in confusion. Had I laid in the puddle?

I couldn't even gasp when I realized what Jake had done. Blood dripped from a deep slice on his forearm and he wrapped his hand around it, looking apologetically at my shirt which was now stained with his blood just like my pants had been. I thought back to those few moments before the blood and I realized what he'd done. With his back turned to Luke, he'd cut his own arm and let the blood puddle and then sat me in it. For a few moments I truly was bleeding his blood.

"Jake," I choked out. I sucked in air while I pressed my own hands over his. I applied more pressure. "Why did you do this to yourself?"

My relief was so extreme that I felt evil. Jake was hurt. I shouldn't be relieved. But I was. I wasn't miscarrying again. Was it so terrible to be relieved about that?

He pulled our hands off. "It's not too bad." It started gushing again, contradicting his spoken words, and I pressed my hands over it again.

"I didn't have a choice." He lowered his voice to a level so soft that it hurt to strain to listen. "Your plan is all we have. I'd rather have a painful arm than have everyone I love killed."

"Why didn't you cut my arm?" I asked, and I wished he had. His warm blood seeped through my fingers. There was so much. I had to stop it.

"He's going to know," I whispered. Jake smiled painfully.

"I know. But by the time he does the evidence will be gone." He grabbed the piece of paper with his good arm. I put his hands over his cut and quickly tore it into the smallest shreds I could. I helped him up and he followed me into the bathroom that connected to the bedroom. I put the pieces in the toilet and flushed it. Once my hands were free, I covered his slice again. He wasn't putting enough pressure on it.

I grabbed a towel. I pulled my hands off his cut and the blood dripped onto the floor with small musical notes. I wrapped the towel around the cut. I fished around the medicine cabinet for gauze. Once I located that, I grabbed the medical tape he'd used on my finger earlier. I pulled the towel off and quickly wrapped the gauze tightly around his arm. I taped it in place with the medical tape and broke down suddenly.

"What if you need stitches, Jake? What if it gets infected?" I wiped at my eyes. I realized too late that I hadn't got the blood off my hands yet. His blood mixed with my tears and it smeared all over my face. Jake grabbed a wad of toilet paper and started to wipe my face off. Sudden, strong emotion came over me and I snatched it out of his hands.

"Stop taking care of me! You just end up hurting yourself! Look at you! Your arm is gushing blood and you're cleaning my face off! Stop!" I sat heavily onto the side of the tub and cried more. "Just let me take care of you for once. If you don't let me, I am going to die from the guilt."

His eyes were wide with shock. He stood still for a long moment before he tentatively sat beside me.

"I can't stop taking care of you. But I'm not going to stop you from taking care of me. I need you, I know that. But you also need me. Why can't it be equal?"

I wiped my face with the tissue. It broke in my hands and I angrily threw it at the door. It fell at my feet, not even making it halfway to it's destination. It laid crumbled and destroyed, unmoving, hopeless.

"Because it isn't ever equal! You lock your pain inside so you can take care of me! But then who takes care of you? No one! I had one chance to take care of you and I blew it! I went to fucking work to try and take care of myself when it was you I should have been looking out for! And then I got fucking raped! Which just made you have to take care of me even more! God, Jake, you just sliced your arm open to take care of me! You're bleeding fucking ounces over there! When is the last time I've ever cut myself open to keep you safe?! Never! And you're going to keep taking care of me, even with your arm like that, when if that was my arm you wouldn't let me do anything for you!" My mind seemed to be raging so much I couldn't see straight. I reached into shower and grabbed the razor. His hand twitched forward to stop me but I pressed down before he could. I cut myself exactly where he was cut. My anger simmered and collapsed into a pile of idiocy at my feet. I breathed heavily and stared at the blood. "But I would," I whispered thickly, "I would cut my arm for you. I would. I would help you cut my heart out if you wanted it. If you needed it. Because I love you more than I love myself. Because that is how much I love you."

My face was on fire and my breathing took a while to regulate. He didn't say anything. I held his arm in my lap and I rested my hands over it as if that would help. We both watched my arm bleed. My blood was the same color as his and as it dripped onto my leg I couldn't tell whose was whose.

"I didn't ever doubt how much you loved me." He whispered.

"I did," I murmured. The words sounded so terrible that I quaked with disgust. "I couldn't stab him to keep you and Cole safe. I couldn't kill a monster to keep him from killing you two." Tears splashed on my swollen stomach. "What is _wrong _with me?"

There was a very long pause in which everything I was afraid to hear was thrust out into the room. Nothing. He had no answer.

He slowly reached over me. He pressed his hands to my cut. He touched his cheeks and the blood made war paint. He pressed a tissue into my hand. I wiped the blood off his face.

"Equal," He whispered. He snatched the tissue out of my hand and stood up. He grabbed the gauze and medical tape. "Means the same."

He patched up my arm and I didn't feel like I'd lost my mind. I felt like it had abandoned me.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. I spotted my misshapen sanity in the palm of his hand. It relaxed against his thumb. It waved. He clenched his fist together.

"You do take care of me."

He placed his hand with my newly reshaped sanity into mine. It crawled up my arm and latched on.

"You do." He repeated.

It skied over my shoulder. He leaned in and kissed my jaw.

"You breathe for me." He whispered, his breath as sweet as presents on Christmas morning or a child's first words.

I stared at the mixed blood on my leg and my last thought before my newly shaped sanity eased into my mind was that he had us all mixed up.


	35. Cognate

**A/n: **Sorry for the wait! Happy Easter if I don't update before then! Thank you all so much for the reviews!!

* * *

**"I learned from you that I do not crumble  
I learned that strength is something you choose  
All of the reasons to keep on believing,  
There's no question, that's a lesson  
I learned from you."  
-- Billy Ray and Miley Cyrus, "I Learned From You". **

* * *

_Jake talked to the doctor. Handshakes and pamphlets __were__ exchanged. I __could__ read the pamphlets—they all talk of grief and loss—but I __could not__ read the handshake. What __was__ Jake thanking him for? Thank you, sir, for keeping my wife in the psychiatric ward. Thank you, sir, for charging us almost ten thousand dollars just to give her a bed, a sedative, some encouraging words, and a prescription of happy pills I know she isn't going to take. Thank you, sir, for being no goddamn help at all. Thanks. It's been a pleasure. _

_It __felt__ odd to not be in my own body. Did they know I would feel this way? Did they know I was going to feel as if I were floating? Is that why I was kept under close watch? To keep me from floating away? Or was it to keep me from killing myself? _

_The next thing I was aware of was a nurse pushing me outside. Jake offered me his hand and I took it. He helped me to my feet and I walked with him. The cold air made Alana shiver and I didn't feel it. The sun glared at me and I stared directly into it, remembering how my mother used to scold me for that. _

_I climbed into the passenger seat and the rearview mirror caught my eye. The car seat in the back had been disposed of, probably by Alana. The car seat that was supposed to carry my daughter. My tiny baby. The intense, burning pressure of sorrow built inside me and I wanted to cry. But the tears would not come. My heart just ached and my hands shook. I gripped the seatbelt and shut my eyes. I kept them that way the whole drive home, trying not to hear anything anyone was saying. _

_Home. _

_That was the only thing going through my mind as I walked up to the front door. It looked so different. Jake opened the door and I noticed Alana had suitcases. Was she staying? I couldn't recall any conversations at the hospital except the one I wanted most to forget. _

_Jake seemed to be breaking apart. The moment we were inside, he hurried to the bathroom. If I listened hard enough I could hear him crying. Alana led me to the couch. She patted my hand lovingly. _

"_I'm going to the kitchen to get you something to drink." _

_She stood up and I watched her feet as she walked off. I stood up and climbed up the stairs. Between Alana's motherly habits and Jake's crying, I thought I was dying. _

_I found myself in the middle of what would have been Isabella's room. I touched the walls, the crib, the dresser, the stuffed dog, the little socks and little onesies. I expected bruises to sprout all over my body. I had her in my arms just a week ago. She was small and warm and beautiful. She was my daughter. She was dead. _

_An anger more powerful than my sadness took over. I angrily yanked a drawer out of the dresser. I threw it as hard as I could against the wall and it made a nice indention. The tiny socks and bloomers spilled out of the drawer like blood. I was shaking so hard it hurt me physically. I tore the other drawer out and threw that. I shoved the whole dresser over and it felt good when the little pink lamp shattered. I shoved the changing table over. I kicked the trashcan. _

_Fuck diapers. Fuck tiny shoes. Fuck this fucking crib, this stupid blanket, these goddamn teething rings. Fuck the fact Isabella will never, ever see this room, wear those shoes and clothes, sleep in this fucking crib, use those goddamn teething rings. Fuck the fact she is dead. Fuck everything. _

_Alana was shaking me. I looked up at her and then the room. Everything was on the floor, demolished. Just like my life and this situation and this _tragedy. _That's what the nurses called it as they gossiped outside my room. A tragedy. It's a tragedy to them; it is the end to me. _

"_Miley, calm down. It's alright." She pulled me into my arms and rocked me like I was her daughter, like I would have rocked my daughter if she was broken. What the hell did I do? What in the world did I ever do that was so terrible that both my daughters would die? What the _hell _did I have to do to deserve something that was supposed to be a woman's birth right? _

"_What about this is alright?" I demanded, my anger pushing angrily against her, "How is this alright? Nothing about this is alright. It is not okay." _

_I pushed away from her and ran up and up and up until I was in the attic. I ripped the tops of the paint cans off with my bare hands, my fingernails breaking bloodily so that they were painted even before I'd begun painting. I grabbed the blue first and I threw the paint against the wall. It splattered, getting blue __specks__ all over me. I took red next, and I threw that. I poured all the paint cans against the walls until it looked like a hurricane had come through and the smell of paint was so strong I felt a little fuzzy-headed. I was painted all the different bright, happy colors and my anger would not simmer. I punched the wall again and again and I screamed and screamed until I just couldn't anymore. I sat in the middle of the floor, paint drying on me, tears refusing to come. I finally felt calm enough to leave the room. I walked down the stairs and down the hallway, to the bathroom nobody used. I shut the door and locked it and I filled the bathtub with hot water. I took my clothes off and sat in the hot water. I scrubbed the paint off myself and sat there until dinner started. I listened to Alana and Cole's conversation, surprised by how easily sound carried through the house. I didn't hear Jake at dinner. _

_I drained the colorful water and pulled my clothes back on my body. I watched my hair dry for what felt like (and probably was) hours. When I left the bathroom, the moon was out and the house was completely silent. I walked slowly to Cole's room and I went in with the intention on checking on him. But the sudden ache in my heart propelled me forward. I couldn't lose him too. What if something happened to him? I can't lose my son as well as my daughter. I just can't. I'll die. _

_I crawled into bed beside him and wrapped my arms around his small, sleeping frame. His blonde hair tickled against my neck and his breathing was slow and deep. He was so small for ten that sometimes I forgot he was that old. He seemed to still be a second grader. I gently touched his forehead and I could tell you exactly how old he was when he said I love you for the first time, but I could not tell you when I first realized my little boy had slipped away from me. _

_He stirred and his eyes opened. I remembered the first time his eyes opened, when parenthood was so new and so frightening and he was just as beautiful and perfect as he'll always be. _

"_Mom?" He asked sleepily, confusion stirring among the word, "Is everything okay?"_

_No. It's not. So far from it. _

_I kissed his forehead and he hesitantly cuddled up to me like he used to do when he had a terrible nightmare. He acted as if I might disappear any moment. _

"_I love you, Coley." I whispered. My truthful words held the plea. Please don't die. Please, please, please don't leave me. I know I left you, and I'm sorry, but please, please, please…please…God…don't take him away. _

_I could almost see his struggle. At ten he was not yet old enough to be cold and distant like a teenager, but still young enough to need his mommy. _

"_I love you too, Mom." He whispered. I could tell he was waiting for me to leave, like he was certain I'd do. But I couldn't leave. I needed him in my arms so I was certain he was real, that he was alive, that my son was okay. How did I explain that to him? _

"_Why did she die?" He whispered, searching for reasons that I was searching for too. _

"_I don't know. I wish I did." I breathed in the shampoo of his hair and was comforted by the familiar smell. It took me back years and years when he would giggle like the happiest child in the world when he played with colorful bath foam and we all had a war with it in the bathroom. Jake and I ended up covered in it in our clothes and Cole ended up squeaky clean and happy as a clam. _

_He yawned. "Goodnight, Mom." _

_I pulled his blanket up over his shoulders so he wouldn't freeze. I kissed the top of his head. _

"_Goodnight, Coley." I drifted to sleep around the same time he did, wondering if my anger at the world would ever cease.

* * *

_"_Can't you shut him up?" Jackson howled, fanning himself with a TV guide. I bounced Cole in my arms more quickly, hoping that would help calm him. His mind-shattering screams continued. _

"_It's not his fault!" I defended him, "He's just a baby! He's hot!" _

_I kissed the top of his sweaty, baby head and it lolled onto my shoulder, his cries gaining more momentum. California was in the middle of the hottest day on record and our air conditioner had broken last night. It was so hot people were advised not to go outside, which was why Jackson was still here. He'd come over early today when the heat wasn't so bad to try and fix it for us, but I honestly think he lied about knowing how to just so he could come over here and get a cooked meal. _

"_I'm hot too and you don't see me crying like that!" Jackson complained. _

_I sat down in armchair before realizing it was way too hot to be sitting in any kind of clothed seat. I walked into the kitchen and sat on the cool floor and leaned my back against the island. I rested Cole in my lap and prayed for the air conditioner to click back on. I carefully set him on his belly on the kitchen floor, so the cold tiles would cool him down a bit. His crying ceased. I kissed his head twice. _

"_My poor Coley," I coed, "I know you're hot. Don't worry__,__ it'll get better soon." _

_He kicked his feet happily, holding his head up perfectly. He looked around with his wide eyes and smiled tearfully at me. I laid on my stomach beside him and kissed his nose. He giggled and grabbed my hair with his hand. I smiled, overcome by love for my little baby, and scooped him into my arms. I cradled him and kissed his sweet little hands. _

"_Mommy loves you, Coley, more than everything in the whole world." He pulled his head back and shakily stretched his neck up. He pressed his lips to my cheek, his slowly improving version of a kiss. _

"_Love you, mama." He struggled out in his tiny, loving voice. I hugged him, happiness taking over everything. His first word had been Dada, but I was the first person he said I love you to. I remember he repeated it to me when we were stuck in terrible midday traffic on the way back from the studio. It was amazing how my terrible day just did a complete twist. _

_He whined restlessly and turned in my arms. "Hot," He complained. He sniffed and started crying again. I set him back on the floor but it didn't seem to help anymore. _

_We both looked up as Jake came in, shirtless and pant-less in only his boxers, screaming into the phone. _

"_I don't care if half your vans are out fixing other air conditioners! My family is dying from the heat here and I want someone out here NOW to fix our air!" He glared at the wall as the man talked. "Wouldn't be in your best interest? Wouldn't be in your best INTEREST? Let me tell you what won't be in your best interest, buddy. It won't be in your best interest to continue to refuse to fix our air and piss me off! Because when I get pissed off, I go to the press and I make a public complaint! I don't think your business would be too great if Jake Ryan made a public statement that Malibu Air backs out on its costumers when they need them the most! I might even decide to be an endorser for Seaside Air! Think about that while you're refusing to fix __our__ air!" _

_I lifted Cole up and kissed him before setting him back down. His cries continued and Jake pressed a finger into his other ear. _

"_Daddy's very angry," I whispered to him, over his wails. Jake suddenly leaned down and pressed the phone to Cole's screaming mouth. He pulled it back. _

"_You hear that? That's my son's agony over the heat! Get someone out here now or I swear you'll regret it with every fiber in your being." He angrily snapped his phone shut. He looked really sexy standing all sweaty and angrily in his underwear. I wish I could have chucked that much clothing off. The most I could get away with was shorts and a tank top with Jackson around. _

_Cole's cries and the hot sun and heat __were__ making _me _want to howl too. I picked Cole up in my arms and made a rash decision. I hurried into my bedroom and into the bathroom and quickly turned the tub on. I let it fill with cold water and I sat in there with Cole. I took his regular diaper off so it wouldn't swell with water and his crying stopped completely. I shivered in the cold water. I set him in his little infant bathing seat and grabbed the bubbles off the side of the tub. I smiled at him and dipped the wand into the soap and blew the __bubbles__ above his head. He giggled exuberantly and grabbed at them. I caught one with the wand and moved it forward. His doughy baby fist closed around it and he frowned when he opened his hand to find nothing. _

"_Gone-gone," He said, curiosity shining in his eyes. I laughed. _

"_Yes, all gone. You squished it." I blew more and he batted at them, his aim extremely off. He motioned at the wand. _

"_Me," He insisted, trying to grab the bubbles. I dipped the wand into the bubbles. I held it in front of his mouth. I imitated blowing to show him how it worked. _

"_Just like when you blow out birthday candles," I explained. _

_He weakly blew at it but nothing happened. He frowned. He pushed it back. _

"_Mama bubbles." _

_I blew more for him until the bathroom seemed to be filled with them. I grew tired of them quickly after that. _

"_Coley ready to get out?" I asked. I was worried about my hardwood floors. My clothes were going to be soaking wet and drip all over the place. _

_Cole shook his head. He reached for the foaming soap. I grabbed it for him and squeezed some onto my hand. It was green. _

"_Gween!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands together. I smiled at him and smeared it on his belly. He laughed loudly and reached for it. _

"_Me!" He exclaimed. I squirted some into his hands. I leaned forward and he slapped it into my face. I laughed with his beautiful laughter and wiped it off. He eagerly kicked his legs as he tried to get closer and put more on me. I squirted a pile onto the side of the tub where he could reach it. He grabbed some and rubbed it into my hair. _

"_Gween haiw!" He clapped his hands together in delight again. I reached for the blue and I squirted a small amount in his fair hair, making sure to keep it away from his eyes. _

"_Coley has blue hair now!" _

_He touched his hair and screamed happily at the blue foam that came off onto his hands. _

"_Look mama! Wawr! Me monstow!" He giggled holding his little chubby arms out like Frankenstein. I kissed his forehead. _

"_Mommy's little monster." I corrected. _

_He pointed at the other cans. _

"_Mowe!" _

_I smiled at the way he said 'more'. I squirted orange down the length of his arm. He smacked his other hand into it and rubbed it all over his arm. I wrote his name on the side of the tub with the black. _

"_That's your name, Coley." I told him. He took a glob of purple and smeared it over his name. _

"_Mama's!" He smiled at me and I realized the purple was supposed to be my name. I laughed, my heart so swollen for love for this child, and I hugged him. _

"_It's beautiful. I love it." I said seriously. He smeared my tanktop with pink. He threw other colors on there and the outcome looked almost artistic. _

"_That's very pretty, Coley. I like this better than the original!" I praised. He grinned happily. He had a wad in his hand when Jake walked in. _

"_Dada!" He cried happily. He tossed the foam with amazing strength and I stifled a laugh as it hit Jake on his stomach. His anger melted and he chuckled at the sight of us. He sat on the edge of the tub and kissed the top of Cole's head. Cole reached for him. Jake started to pull him out of the seat but Cole whined. _

"_No! Dada hewe!" He demanded, splashing the water with his hand. Jake glanced at me and I shrugged. It was a terribly hot day and this water was nice and cool. No reason not to get in. Jake slid in, still in his boxers, just as I was still in my state of dress. He was on the other side of Cole's seat and he tickled the bottom of my foot with his toe. I smiled at him. Cole slung orange foam at him and it hit him in the face. He wiped it off his eyes and mouth and smiled mischievously at our tiny son. _

"_It's war time!" He declared and Cole laughed so happily it made my heart sing. Jake rubbed purple foam on Cole's back and made a point of aiming some where my bra was visible. I glared and got the black, squirting it all over his hair. Cole thought that was the funniest thing and he kicked his feet with laughter. _

_I took the red and drew a heart on Cole's tiny foot. He squirted red back at me. Jake wrote _I love you _on his arm and flashed it to me, before smearing the foam from his arm all over my neck and Cole's arm. It escalated into a full war, where all I could see was flying foam and we were all just tossing it and hoping it would hit someone. Jake and I were careful about the foam getting in Cole's eyes or mouth, though. But other than that, it was every man for __himself__. _

_The war ended when Jackson walked in, humor on his face. _

"_You are the oddest family I've ever met. __The__ air guy just left. It's already cooling down in here. What's for dinner?" _

_I wiped some foam off my mouth. _

"_Spaghetti. You're leaving afterwards, right?" _

_He scowled. "I enjoy your presence __too__, sis." _

_I saw Cole's innocent smile from the corner of my eye and I knew what was coming. He threw pink foam across the room and it landed directly in Jackson's eyes._

"_AHHHHHHHHHHHH! MY EYES!!" Jackson screamed. He ran from the bathroom. Cole laughed innocently. _

_Jake grabbed Cole's tiny hand and high-fived him. _

"_Way to go little guy! That was awesome! That's my boy!" He kissed his head and Cole smiled and kissed Jake's cheek, to the best of his ability. I wanted to scold Cole, but at the same time I really didn't want to. _

_A freezing chill set over us. _

"_Looks like the air really is back on…" Jake muttered. I quickly turned the warm water on and I washed myself off. Then I pulled Cole out of his seat and washed him under the spray. Once we were foam free, I climbed out of the tub. I wrapped a warm, fluffy towel around Cole and he yawned. I kissed his head. _

_Jake whistled. "Love the way those clothes are clinging to you!" He winked at me. _

_I moved Cole to my other arm and he yawned again. _

"_Meet me later and I'll show you what's under them," I teased. _

_He grinned. "Just name a time and place and I'm there." _

"_I was thinking—"_

"_Shh! Me sleepy!" Cole mumbled, burying his head more into my neck. We laughed quietly and I handed Jake a towel and wrapped one around myself. A few moments later Cole broke out into cries again. _

"_Cold!" He complained. _

"_Here we go again. Do you know where the heating blanket is?"

* * *

_"Miley?" Jake gently shook me. I opened my eyes and offered him a small smile. He accepted it eagerly.

"Sorry. I was just thinking."

I struggled to pull myself into a sitting position. My back really hurt. I winced and folded my pillow behind it.

"They're getting bigger," I sighed, eyeing my stomach which had increased in size since I last looked at it.

"Three months." Jake said it in a way that was supposed to sound excited, but I heard the warning in it. Three months to get out of here before we're in some big trouble.

I needed Susan to execute this plan. I wasn't sure what Luke was telling her when she came by, but surely he couldn't keep it up for long without her getting suspicious. He'd have to let her in. And when she was, I could tell her to buy the sleeping pills. I just had to figure out how without raising suspicion.

I purposely said this to Jake loudly.

"How long do you think he'll send Susan away? She's probably already suspicious. I wonder if he knows her father's a policeman and her brother's a detective."

Jake gave me a long, probing glace before replying.

"I don't know. Probably not too much longer though. He always has everything planned to the T."

I nodded, and as I did, a cord caught my eye. I urged Jake to say something as I moved to the edge of the bed.

"What were you thinking about before?" He quickly asked, watching what I was doing. I laid on my stomach and reached under the bed. I touched the smooth top of the laptop. Surely Luke wouldn't have forgotten about internet communication…I pulled it out from under the bed.

"Just memories." I replied. I set the laptop on the bed and turned it on.

"Good memories?"

I turned the volume off before it did the welcome jingle. I typed the password as gently and quietly as I could.

"A mixture."

I watched the task bar and looked at Jake in confusion when the internet connected. He pulled it to him and opened the internet.

"What memories were they?" He asked. He tapped the cursor instead of clicking the button to reduce the noise. He signed on to his email.

"That day it was so horribly hot and the air broke." I muttered, intentionally leaving out the first one.

He thought for a moment.

"Oh yeah. Stupid dumbass Malibu Air manager. I wanted to kill them that day." He opened an email to Cole. I quickly took the laptop and typed something to Jake.

_Do you think __Luke__ will read these? _

Jake typed back.

_Maybe. We won't say anything too important. _

I nodded and he began typing. I read over his shoulder.

* * *

**To: Cole Ryan**

**From: Jake Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: read alone**

Are you alright? You probably know more than we do by now, but if you don't, don't worry. Everything is okay. Just don't do anything brave or stupid and keep your eyes open. We will be there as soon as we can. Remember who your role model is. Your mother and I love you. Remember to just keep your eyes open and don't try to play hero. And Jesus. Remember him.

P.S. Essential question: W.W.J.D. (what would Jesus do?)

* * *

I stifled a laugh.

"Was all that really necessary?" I asked quietly. He snorted.

"Yes. I remember being fifteen. It's very necessary."

I gently knocked my shoulder into his. "I remember you being fifteen too."

He smiled and set his hands on my stomach. "Shh don't say that in front of the little girls. They need to believe you're Mother Theresa so they'll shape their life after her."

I patted his hand.

"Dream big, honey. Dream big."

There was a pause and he grabbed the laptop back, adding another P.S.

_P.S.S. How's the shaving coming along? _

"Get out of town! He is not shaving!" I exclaimed, disbelief happily parading around my mind along with pictures of him when he was just a toddler. Jake grinned.

"Better believe it. Taught him a few weeks ago. He didn't really need to do it yet, but he could, which is all boys at that age care about. I even bought him his own razor and cream."

He stroked my hair and laughed at my expression.

"It was a wake up call for me, too."

I frowned. "He's fifteen."

Jake nodded. "Almost a man."

My tone turned more pleading now. "He's fifteen."

"Three years until college."

I shuddered, "Don't say that. Think of all the things people do in college."

Jake laughed, "All the things he's already gone behind our back and done you mean?"

"Point. Wait! He hasn't done illegal drugs! Right? _Right?!_" I grabbed his collar.

Jake shrugged. "He better not have. He joked about it earlier but I think it was just a joke. Or at least it better have just been a joke…"

I released his shirt and clenched my fists as if I were strangling an imaginary person, "If he's doing or has done illegal drugs I swear I'll strangle him with my bare hands," I threatened. Jake laughed and then quickly stopped at the look on my face. He patted the top of my head.

"I'm sure you will, baby."

He glanced down and his face seemed to whiten. He was bleeding through his bandage. I cursed under my breath. I quickly typed on last thing on the email—(_P.S.S.S. You better not have ever done illegal drugs or I swear you will wish you were dead. Love, Mom.)_—and sent it. Then I helped him up and took him into the bathroom. I disposed of the bandage and inspected the cut. It looked a little inflamed.

"Jake, this looks like it might be getting infected." He peered closely at it.

"Nah."

He reached for the bandages and I swatted his hand away.

"Don't _even_ think about it." I looked at him through squinted eyes.

I put Neosporin on it (luckily there was some under the sink), and bandaged it back up. I couldn't help but laugh in relief when I heard a familiar voice.

"Miley?"

Susan. Thank _God.

* * *

_**COLE'S POV:**

Three A.M. and bathing times were turning into the only time we could all meet. Caitlyn's mom was very careful about Caitlyn spending any time with me because of her stupid Satanic plans, and Oliver wouldn't let Emily near me because he thought we were going to have sex or something. I much preferred the three A.M. meetings in the basement over the meetings when Caitlyn or Emily were in the bath. I didn't take baths on principal. Not manly. Going in there when Emily was in there was a lot easier, though, because she stayed completely behind the curtain at all times.

We were currently in the basement, and my hormones were resting peacefully. Stupid hot girls. Why can't they both be troll dolls? Of course, I'm sure my presence isn't easy on them either. I bet they wish they got stuck with an ugly guy instead of someone as good looking as me.

"We aren't getting anywhere with this," Caitlyn complained. She idly tossed a bouncy ball at the dark wall. Emily stared at the wall while she French braided her hair. I wasn't sure how she could do that complicated thing in the dark, without a mirror. I was doing a crossword puzzle. Unfortunately, it was on sexually transmitted diseases, which wasn't that interesting and frankly a little nauseating. I'm pretty sure my grandmother purposely gave me the crossword book with this in it. I'd already finished every single one in the book, except that one.

"This is lame. I don't care about Chlamydia." I turned the page and decided to draw instead. My hand had been literally itching to draw something for a while since it had been a long time since I had. I really wanted to paint something, but I didn't think Oliver or any other adult was going to go out and get me canvases and paint. Jackasses.

I was feeling abstract-y, so I decided to draw the lake and surrounding landscape using only triangles. This would look a lot cooler if I had my oil pastels and a real piece of paper. I could alwaysmake this the rough draft and then redo it with those. I'm pretty sure I brought oil pastels and color pencils with me…I should do it in colors that will match the hallway at our real house in California. We need something to hang up there. Right now it was just this ugly school picture of me from sixth grade. My braces like ate my face in it.

"What if me and Caitlyn just went there?" Emily asked suddenly, chewing on her bottom lip. "If you stay here and say you have no idea where we went, we could probably get there."

I looked up from the paper.

"And then what? When you get there, what do you do?" I asked.

She fell silent and sighed. "I don't know," She admitted.

"Did I mention this was pointless?" Caitlyn grumbled. She shivered.

"You can go back to bed if you want, Caitlyn." Emily snapped. I watched Emily's feet tapping restlessly and I wondered if she wanted to dance as badly as I wanted to paint.

"Well there isn't any point in me staying." She threw the ball harder than she had been.

"I bet you could talk your mom out of doing this," Emily said, an epiphany strong in her voice. "She cares a lot about you. I bet if you cried and begged, she wouldn't do this."

Caitlyn snorted. "She loves my dad more than she loves me."

That sounds familiar…

"You're her daughter. She loves you. Tell her that you love Cole and if anything happened to him or his family you'll hate her forever." Emily exclaimed, confidence ringing strongly in her voice.

It could work. Maybe. I didn't know her mother or father well enough to know how much Caitlyn's opinions mattered.

Caitlyn shook her head. "No."

Emily paused in incredulity. "No? Why the hell not?"

"Just no."

Emily laughed coldly. She stood up.

"Nice to see who really cares about that tanktop more."

"Oh God we aren't arguing about that again are we?" I complained. Emily rolled her eyes. She motioned for me to follow her. I stood up and walked with her to the mouth of the basement. Suddenly, our path was blocked. SHIT.

"WHAT WERE YOU DOING WITH MY LITTLE GIRL DOWN THERE?" Oliver breathed fire. Emily cursed under her breath.

"Daddy, we were just talking. I promise. Look, Caitlyn was here too. She can tell you. We were just talking, right?"

Caitlyn walked up beside us. She took one look at Emily and shook her head, a serious expression on her face.

"As you said, you care about him more than I do. Much more." She smirked and walked past us and out of the basement. Wait? I'm the tanktop? How am I a tanktop…what the hell…? Girls are honestly not worth the confusion sometimes.

Oliver growled.

"Daddy, we were just talking, honest! We're friends and you never let us talk anymore! If you don't want us talking in dark, underground places at three A.M. than maybe you shouldn't outlaw us seeing each other in normal times in normal places."

Oliver suddenly looked really old. He rubbed his temples and sighed.

"I'm already dealing with you becoming a young woman and now I have to worry about Jake Ryan's son living in the same house as you. I knew I should have left you with your granny."

"I'm my own person! I'm nothing like my father!" I argued, his words making me angry. "And what the hell is wrong with my father?"

"You are everything like your father. I look at you and I see him when we were younger. And what's wrong with him? He got all the girls. ALL of them. And poor boys like me were left in the dust. He even stole your mother from me." His eyes seemed to widen and he backtracked. "Not that I like her anymore, but I did a very, very, very long time ago, and he stole her then. What I'm saying is, I know the charm you Ryans have. And I want that charm turned off around my daughter." He glared.

He is so weird.

"Sorry, not something I can just turn off. You just have to trust your daughter."

Emily jumped. "Yeah! What the heck, Daddy?! You don't trust me!"

"Of course I do, Em! I trust you very much! I just don't trust him!" He pointed an accusing finger at me. Emily pretended to be upset.

"No, don't talk to me right now. I'm hurt."

She dramatically stormed past her dad and I quickly followed.

"Em! Emmy! Come back honey!" Oliver begged, following her. "I love you!"

"Save it for someone you _trust_."

She slammed the door in his face. I quickly went into my own room so he couldn't blame me for that too.

When I went in, Caitlyn was sitting on my bed. I awkwardly tried to secretly kick my dirty clothes under the bed. She smiled at me and patted the spot beside her. Ugh. All I wanted was one day where they didn't stress my self control. One day. Why is that too much to ask for?

I carefully sat down beside her, but on the edge of the bed so I could run if I needed to. She reached over and hugged me. I tried to ignore how soft she felt against me and I was so uptight I forgot to hug her back.

"Sorry for earlier." She apologized. She flashed a smile that made me momentarily forget exactly what had happened before.

"Uhh, yeah, it's okay." I stammered.

She stroked my arms.

"You have amazing arms. Nice, strong biceps. Do you go to the gym?" Her breath was sweet as it fanned on my face. I gulped and edged away from her as best as I could without hurting her feelings.

"We have this work out room upstairs," she edged closer, "uhh, not upstairs here upstairs, but upstairs at our other house in umm…" she wrapped her arms around my middle, "California and it has this room with work out equipment…" she threw a leg over my lap and pulled herself into it so she was straddling me, "and I use that, sometimes…um, what are you doing?"

She buried her fingers in my hair. "What you've wanted me to do since you met me."

She leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. Her tongue ran along my bottom lip and I gently pushed her away.

"Um, you see, this isn't the best idea, because my role model is Jesus, and he doesn't really support this kind of stuff." I stuttered.

She giggled and stuck her hands up my shirt. "You're so funny." She breathed. "And so fit."

_Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name…_

I tried to push her off but she clung to me like a damn monkey. Maybe this Ryan charm isn't something bitter rivals make up. I really knew I should shove her off me but I really didn't want to.

_Thy kingdom come, thy will be __done__ on Earth as it is in Heaven. _

"No, really, I'm freakishly religious. I have this cross necklace at home and I pray like ten times a day and it really just wouldn't be a good idea for this to go any farther." I struggled out. She kissed down my neck.

"You aren't a virgin."

_Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us…_

"Of course I am! What a blasphemous thing to say!" Oh wait, lying is a sin too…sorry my homeboy Jesus. I'm really bad at this.

"You got Lila pregnant. You aren't a virgin. It's a good thing I'm not either." She shoved me down so I was on my back and she was on top of me. This is not good. I mean, yes this is good…but not morally good…but very physically good. Yes. Very good.

_And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen. _

I pushed her off me and she fell back on the bed. Her eyes were wide and she looked surprised. I breathed deeply.

"I'm sorry but my role model really is Jesus." I explained. "If it was someone else I wouldn't have pushed you off, I promise. But it's not. It's not like I'm not physically attracted to you because…well, you can see I am…but it's just that I have to…resist."

I thought she'd be hurt but she just smiled widely.

"I love boys who are virtuous."

You have _got_ to be kidding me.

"Oh, by the way, you got an email while Oliver was yelling at you and Emily." She pointed at my laptop. I quickly got off the bed and sat on the chair. It was from my dad. Did that mean they were okay? I mean it would have to! The subject said to read alone. I glanced at Caitlyn, who was standing behind my shoulder.

"Um, I think I should read this alone."

She sat in my lap. WHAT PART OF JESUS IS MY ROLE MODEL DOESN'T SHE UNDERSTAND?! JESUS! I mean… GOSH! UGH! I inhaled deeply to keep my anger in check.

"But I want to know if they are okay. This involves me too." She kissed my cheek gently and batted her eyes at me.

"Okay, seriously, the sexual stuff has got to stop, as much as I don't want it to." I scolded her. "And I really think there's a reason my parents don't want anyone else to read it. You should probably go."

She pushed herself closer and it was getting really hard not to shove her on the bed and make someone else my role model.

"Please?" She whispered, "I'll get off you and stop trying your self control if you let me."

"Deal!" I blurted out, before I thought it through. She smiled and slid off me and stood beside me. True to her word, she didn't even let her hair brush my shoulder. Breathe.

Surely they wouldn't care if Caitlyn saw it? I mean she's on our side. I think my dad would rather her read that then have me do something irresponsible. Of course, it isn't irresponsible if I find protection…No.

I clicked the email before I could do something I'd regret. I read it, satisfied that there was proof to Caitlyn that Jesus was my role model and that I had resisted temptation, and full of hope that they seemed to have a plan. I quickly pressed reply.

* * *

**To: Jake Ryan**

**From: Cole Ryan**

**CC:**

**Subject: Re: read alone**

I'm fine. And yes I do know a lot. That stupid woman confronted me. Apparently if I tell anyone about what's happening she's going to kill the babies. And okay. Nothing brave or stupid. I hope you have a hell of a plan because I don't see how we can get out of this. And don't worry, Jesus is very, very, very, very, very, VERY proud of me. Heck, I'M proud of me.

P.S. Always am thinking that, Dad

P.S.S. Great

P.S.S.S. What do you categorize as illegal? Kidding, kidding. I haven't and don't. Love you guys.

* * *

Caitlyn stood up. She yawned.

"Well, I better be getting to bed. Night. And no hard feelings about what happened, right?"

Depends what kind of hard feelings you mean. W.W.J.D, Cole. W.W.J.D.

"No, no angry feelings. I forgive you. Sorry again. Night." Please go now. Please.

She smiled and left. I exhaled. I looked at the ceiling.

"You do understand I'm only fifteen, right?"


	36. Coequal

**A/n: **I hope everyone who celebrates it had a marvelous Easter! Did you guys get anything good from the Easter Bunny? Thank you all for the reviews!! I hope you enjoy this update.

* * *

**"I'd rather run the other way than stay and see the smoke and who's still standing when it clears." -- The Fray, "Over My Head".  
**

* * *

I opened the bathroom door and smiled at her, relief flooding my body. I grasped her hand tightly as if I were falling, and I pulled her to the bedroom so we could try and talk in private. Jake hurried to shut the bedroom door, but Luke slipped in before he could. He sat down in a chair across from the bed where Susan had sat down.

She released my hand and turned to me.

"Your brother is so nice to come here and help! My brother wouldn't." She exclaimed, smiling warmly at Luke. I glanced at Jake and he rolled his eyes.

Luke smiled back and it actually looked kind. "Well, she's my little sister." He crossed the room and flung an arm around my shoulders. I cringed away from him, my stomach flipping and the babies recoiling at my fear and sadness. He sat down between me and Susan, his arm still around my shoulder. He rested a hand on my stomach. "I have to watch over her and my nieces!"

Jake made a show of angrily huffing and stomping his feet. I guessed this kept him from jumping up and beheading Luke.

Susan patted his hand.

"Still, you are such a dear for it. And I'm sure Miley likes having a pediatrician here for a second opinion. That is such a luxury for a woman having twins for the first time. Tell me, is everything going well?" She shot the last question at me. Jake gasped in fake wonder.

"What? You're a pediatrician, _bro_? And here I was, thinking I'd have to help her have the babies if we can't get to the hospital! I'll just leave that to you, doc." He smiled, but the hard hatred remained in his eyes.

"You knew I was a doctor, Ryan. You've visited the hospital before." Luke's lies were so smooth that I almost believed it.

"Oh, right. Yes. Oh, how could I forget that? Can you get Alzheimer's at thirty-two, doctor?" He angrily clenched his fists. While they glared, I shot a look at Susan. Her responding glance was full of confusion. She mouthed '_brother?'_. I shook my head quickly. I mouthed a word before he turned back around.

_Killer. _

He turned back to us and Susan grinned at him.

"Everything has been going well, Susan." I answered quickly. Luke started talking before I had finished my sentence.

"Now, you know that isn't true, sister. Just yesterday there was a terrible incident where both of them accidently cut their arms and thought she was miscarrying. Scared all of us."

Jake sighed, but this time it didn't sound sarcastic. I looked at him and I realized he actually did look pale.

"O…kay," Susan said slowly. "That's…quite an incident."

"That's what I thought, too." Luke said, glaring at me when Susan wasn't looking. He ruffled my hair, "Miley's never been very smart. But what can you expect, being raised on the farm and all."

I grit my teeth. Jake rested his head on the back of the chair and I could see moisture on his forehead. He drew his arms closer to his body.

"Anyway, Susan, I need you to pick some stuff up for me at the store. Can you get them here quickly?"

She nodded, and she was also looking at Jake. I knew Luke wasn't going to leave. I stood up suddenly.

"Before I get the list for you, can you come in here a moment?" I motioned at the bathroom. She stood up, too. I shot a look at Jake as we walked past him and I gently touched his forearm, trying to give him strength. This was all my fault. Luke made a move to walk in with us and I slammed the door in his face. He angrily knocked on it.

"Open the door. I told Mom I wouldn't let you out of my sight."

I opened the bathroom drawer and grabbed the little sticky pad out. I was using it for reminders, but now I was going to use it for the list.

"I'm not opening the door. I'm showing her something you can't see unless you're a pervert that enjoys incest. And brother? Mom is dead."

I grabbed the marker too. Susan sat on the edge of the tub.

"What are you showing her?" He hit the door again.

I pulled the top of the marker and tried to think.

"My ass, you jerk, now get the hell away!" I screamed.

Jake needs medicine for his infection. But that requires a subscription. Malone would write one if Susan explained to her. I quickly wrote that down. What else? I needed to put stuff that seemed normal. He would surely look over the list, so I couldn't put sleeping pills on there.

But maybe it didn't have to be sleeping pills. There were pain killers in the cabinet. What if I just gave him half a bottle of those? One of Cole's friends downed half a bottle of Tylenol in seventh grade and he would have died from liver failure if he wouldn't have gotten treatment immediately. If Luke didn't know he took that much, he'd be stuck here to die painfully from liver failure. What a terrible way to go. Could I do that? Could I _not _do that?

I wrote down trivial things like bread, milk, orange juice, fruits, vegetables, broth, soap, toothpaste, Band-Aids, toilet paper, shampoo…I even added chocolate for good measure. It looked like a perfectly normal list. I added some pregnancy-based essentials and handed her the list. I knew he was right outside the door. She read the first thing on the list.

"Where do I find her?" She whispered. I wrote Malone's phone number and address on the paper.

"Do I call the police?"

I shook my head swiftly. I grasped my hands around my neck, mimicking being strangled. "My son." I murmured, mimicking strangulation again so she would understand. She gasped, her hands clasped over her mouth. I turned the tub on so the water would drown out sounds. I really should have done that earlier.

"But you have to tell!" She hissed. "They are trained in this! They can help! Miley, what are you going to do? You're extremely pregnant and Jake looks like he's dying with an infection. You cannot do this alone. Please, let me go to the police."

I wrapped my arms around my stomach as the babies woke up. In a few minutes they'd be kicking like crazy. They had a particular sleep schedule.

"You don't know this man, Susan. He will kill Cole. He will. I have a plan. I just really need you to get the Penicillin for Jake. Please." I mumbled.

She ran a hand through her gray hair, her eyes wide and her face ashen.

"And what if your plan doesn't work?"

I sat down beside her.

"Don't get into this, Susan. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt. The last thing you want is to leave your children. If the plan doesn't work, I will make another one. But you would be helping the most if you just got the list. Please don't let Malone go to the cops either. Please. This is my son's life. Please." I begged in a hushed tone. She swallowed and then nodded bravely. She hugged me.

"I'll get the medicine and the rest of the list. But I want you to know that I'm already in this. What is your plan?"

Her eyes were honest and I knew I could trust her. I whispered the plan into her ear very, very softly.

She shook her head.

"Death could take up to five days even if you give him the whole bottle. He won't even feel liver pain until about two days. Inside Jake's prescription bottle I will slip in some Xanax and Darvocet A500 pills, enough to do the job. Figure out a way to mix these with an alcoholic drink and get that man to drink it."

She spoke so fast that my head was spinning from the strange words and the risk.

"Xanax? Darvocet? What is that? And no, not in Jake's bottle. I won't know the difference and he might accidently take the wrong kind. Put it…" I scanned the list. "In the Band-Aids box. Those aren't sealed when you buy them. Hide the pills at the bottom. Maybe stick some cotton balls in there too to keep them from moving around when the box moves. What will those drugs together with alcohol do?"

She turned the shower on and it made the sound even louder. She leaned closer.

"Xanax is alprazolam, which is used to treat anxiety and panic disorders. Darvocet is propoxyphene napsylate, a pain reliever. Carl was on Xanax, and Sean was on Darvocet. If you take them together, with alcohol, you're pretty much saying goodbye. Just make sure you give him all I put in there. I'll give him a dosage for three people with each drug. It will most likely slow down his nervous system and make him pass out or stop breathing. Do you want me to give you those?" She was panting by the end of her sentence.

I nodded. "How fast will it work?"

"No telling. I'd wait until you see him deteriorating before you try and go anywhere. We better go, before he gets even more suspicious. I'll bring this stuff in about an hour and a half."

She stood up and I hugged her again.

"Thank you for all you've done and continue to do for my family." I opened the cabinet and pushed things loudly around, making it sound like we were doing something.

She shrugged, "This is how I would want someone to treat my family. Do onto others as you would have them do unto you, right?"

I stopped what I was doing and blinked.

"Yes," I replied slowly, "That is right."

* * *

After Susan left, I helped Jake into the bed. The list made it through Luke's inspection, with him adding cigarettes and alcohol to the list as if he knew our plan and was welcoming it. I hoped Malone would fill the subscription without question.

Jake slept restlessly, always tossing and turning. He kicked the blankets off one minute and then had them up to his shoulders the next. I cleaned his cut while he was sleeping (it looked terrible), and gave him Tylenol for the pain, but I knew only the antibiotics could get rid of it. He hadn't said anything to me in a four hour span.

I stayed at his side, too scared to move. Adeline and Odette kicked some, but they didn't seem into it at all. I felt bad because I knew my stress was stressing them, but I honestly couldn't do anything about it. They stretched and turned but kicked very little.

Jake stirred, and about a minute later he was awake. He shook and I wished we had more blankets. I already had every one minus the one Luke was using. I wiped the perspiration off his face.

"Do you feel better?" I whispered hopefully. He shook his head and I longed for him to say something, panic taking me over. He looked like he was dying. If he was going to die I needed to hear his voice one more time, please, just once more. I needed _him. _I felt responsible for this. I was bitching about wanting to take care of him and now he was rendered incapable of even walking. Congratulations. Hope I'm happy.

He opened his arms and his eyes begged me with a odd cockiness to them, as if he knew he didn't have to even ask or beg at all but he was for the heck of it. The familiar spark made me feel a little better. I crawled into his arms but I wasn't able to get close at all because of my stomach. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. He set his hands on my stomach and the babies kicked with all the pent up energy and it took me one dead, heartbroken minute to realize he thought he was about to die. He leaned his head on top of mine and touched the kicking feet and fists of the children he thought he'd never get to know.

"Jake," I pleaded, "look at me."

He pulled his head off mine and met my gaze. He looked peaceful, as if this was all okay.

"I love you," He whispered, as if that was all that ever needed to be said in reference to everything. Four hours and three words and I felt like I was dying too.

I stroked the face I knew as well as my own and breathed.

"I love you too. But you aren't going anywhere, so stop trying to say goodbye. Susan is getting you medicine and you're going to be just fine." I demanded firmly. He smiled weakly.

"I keep telling myself that, but it feels like I'm dying. Better safe than sorry, right?"

His voice calmed me as if it were my antibiotics, curing an infected heart and hope.

"You aren't going anywhere without me. I warned you that you're stuck with me forever and I meant every word of it. Wherever you go, I'm going." I replied confidently.

His eyes drifted shut and he sighed.

"Miley? Do you really believe everything is going to be okay?" He whispered, his voice strained. His tone confused me and it took me a moment to answer.

"I…yes. I do. I have a plan and I really think it's going to work." I said honestly.

He laughed suddenly and then started crying. My heart took the hit. His head bowed and he pressed his face into my chest as he cried more heavily than I'd seen him cry in years. I stroked his hair, my own eyes and nose burning. Jake's distress made the babies uncomfortable and they moved anxiously.

He lifted his head some, his face damp and his eyes red.

"I can't keep telling you that it will be okay because I will never be able to die peacefully knowing I gave you false hope." More tears trickled down his face. My heart seemed to ache with extreme pain almost like a gunshot.

"Jake, we've already been through this, you aren't dy—"

He cut me off, his eyes red and his voice rigid.

"Yes, Miley, I am. And so are you, and the babies, and Cole." His head dropped again as if the weight of this was too much. "The chances of us getting out of this alive are one in a million."

I sat in shock at his words, panic and pain pulsating through me. There were so many things I wanted to yell. I wanted to explain the plan and how it will work, I wanted to yell at him for saying things like that, I wanted to cry. I settled with shaky optimism.

"Well, it's a good thing we're experienced in the act of being one in a million." I said.

He shook his head, his eyes wide with panic, and he gripped my shoulders tightly. "I love you," He exclaimed as if it were my name and he was scolding me, "I love you too much to let you think we have a chance. Think about this, Miley. We are stuck. He has us cornered. God, if only you were on tour that summer Luke came there." He buried his face in his hands and I couldn't move.

"But if I was, I never would have ran into you." I whispered. He didn't move. "I never would have had Cole. I never would have married you. I never would have loved you like this." Silence. My nose burned more and tears pricked my eyes. "Is that what you wish happened?"

He pulled his hands off his face. "I wish you were happy and healthy and in a house somewhere warm. I wish you were married to someone you loved, but not too much, because it would only end up hurting you. I wish you had five beautiful, alive children and that you never cried over anything except happiness. That is what I wish happened."

I cried more. "I don't want that. I want you."

"You do want that. You just want me too. And unfortunately, I couldn't give you what you wanted." His voice held guilt and regret.

"None of what happened was your fault and you know it! This happened because of Luke! All of this happened because of him! Me and you happened because of him, the deaths of our children happened because of him, almost everything happened because of the events that occurred because I met him. I would rather have this life with you than have a perfect life with someone else. Please believe that." I was near hysterics.

He hugged me.

"I do believe it. I just wish…I don't know."

I sniffed. "Do you not think our life together has been good?"

He wiped his eyes. "We were hurt so many times, our children died, you got raped, and we're about to die a painful death."

I grabbed at his shirt, trying to get him to understand.

"But we had each other! Think of all the good times we have had! Do you honestly think it's been a terrible life?" I suddenly felt so drained.

"No! I just think it was an unfair life."

"Great love comes with great loss." I whispered. I sniffed and fixed his hair. "I thought you would understand that by now."

He kissed me.

"I never could regret you, Miley, or our life together. I just wish this didn't have to happen to you."

I grasped his shirt tighter. It was easier to feel like I was keeping a hold on him when I had him in my hands.

"Our life together is not over, dammit! Stop talking like it is! We are going to get out of this and we are going to be happy. You're just in pain and saying things."

He shook his head.

"He's doing it in the morning, Miley." He whispered. "We don't even have twenty-four hours left together. It's too late. I don't want to leave you." He broke down again and my heart rate accelerated.

"How do you know that?" I breathed.

"He knows you have a plan, Miley. He knew even before you and Susan went into the bathroom. He told me while you guys were in there. He gave us time to say goodbye."

"But he doesn't know what the plan is, right?" I begged. I pulled him closer to me. "We still have a chance!"

"I don't know if he knows what it is. But the plan you told me is going to take a little longer, time we don't have. This is all my fault. I should have forgotten his threat and just killed him before he even had a chance to reach the phone." He cried more. "I could have done it, Miley. I could have just walked up behind him and slit his throat. I was too afraid. And now our whole family is going to die." He sobbed into my chest and the tears seeped into me and ate away at my heart like acid.

"No, you couldn't risk Cole." I saved him, taking away his guilt and feeding it to the large guilt I had over the same thing. I really could have done it. And my fear of taking a life inadvertently killed my husband and my children.

"How do I say goodbye?" He choked out, his fists gripped around my shirt just as mine was around his.

I breathed painfully.

"You don't. There is no way to say goodbye to your life."

I never imagined the last few hours I'd be spending with Jake would be like this. I always imagined it somewhat like _The Notebook_, with both of us old and fulfilled. I pictured us dying naturally, of old age. Not being murdered by a man too strong and clever to overthrow. A man who had been emotionally and mentally breaking us down for years and years and was now going to slowly and painfully physically kill us. Jake was right, our life was messed up. And I always wanted to die with no regrets, but I could name so many right now. But meeting and loving Jake was not one, no matter what. Which, in a roundabout way, meant meeting Luke wasn't one either. Being kidnapped by Luke gave me everything, but it also led to events that took more from me than I had to be taken. I guess it's true what they say, you have to give to have room to receive. It's just unfortunate that I gave so much but never received half of it.

"Let's just talk." He whispered. I could tell he was going to fall asleep soon. I wanted him to rest and dream, where he could be happy and pain-free.

His head against my heart made it ache even more. Soon he'd be gone. At least I would be too. But our children…our babies and almost-grown son who would never get a chance to grow old. It wasn't fair. Maybe he would leave Cole alone. Just leave my son alone. Please.

"I don't want to talk about all the things we won't get to do," I sobbed into his hair. "I don't want to talk about birthdays we won't get to share, or places we won't get to see together, or the children we will never be able to see grow."

"Let's talk about the birthdays we did get to share, the places we did see together, and the child we did get to see grow." He murmured.

We talked of memories and it wasn't until right then that I realized for all I have done, I haven't really done much at all.

* * *

Jake fell asleep as we were talking about my twenty-first birthday. I watched him sleep until the moon had risen, and as much as I didn't want to lose a second with him, Hope was urging me along. There was no way I was giving up. Not yet. Everything had not been done that could be.

I walked into the living room and ignored Luke. He ignored me, which was very odd. I sat at the kitchen table and waited for Susan.

"She already dropped everything off."

I looked up at him. He pointed at the counter. I hurried to the bags. If I dissolved the pills into a drink would it have the same effect? If he knew he was taking them, he would just make himself throw them up. How could I do this without him noticing? Jake was right. This is hopeless.

I pulled the groceries out and felt like I might have a breakdown right there at the counter. This was the last time I would handle groceries, the last time I would think about things such as carbohydrates or calcium.

No, Hope stood on the faucet and screamed, NO. NO. NO.

If I didn't try…I had to try. A memory struck me. A memory of Luke, always eating off my plate. Could I somehow power the pills and mix them with mayonnaise or mustard and put it on a sandwich? What about soup? Soup would work better. Mashing them into powder wouldn't make them any less powerful would it? It would most likely make them kick in even faster.

I reached under the cabinet and pulled a pot out. I could feel his eyes on me. I got the broth out of the bag and poured a tiny bit into a bowl. I turned the burner on.

The idea came so fast I just acted without thinking it through. I pretended to trip, and I tried to balance myself on the stove. I purposely put my hand right on the burner.

"Ow!" I screamed in honest-to-God pain. "Dammit! Ow!"

I waved it around, the pain throbbing and aching. I quickly went to the bags and pulled out the box of Band-Aids. I ran to the bathroom.

Once I was in, I locked the doors carefully. I opened the box and poured all the dark red and white pills into my hand. They honestly felt like a miracle from God and I almost cried in happiness. I set them on the counter and looked for something I could grind them with. I found a bottle of hairspray and I used the bottom of the metal can to do it. I used to the edge of can to mush them and then I used a metal nail file to get the bits even smaller. I worked as fast as I could, but there were so many pills. By the last pill, I felt like passing out. When I finally finished, I looked for something to put the powder in. I settled for a small plastic bag that had Easy Flossers in them. I dumped the Flossers into the drawer and carefully scraped the powder into the bag, making sure I got all of it. I stuck the baggy into my pocket. I put Band-Aids on my burnt hand very quickly and then exited the bathroom. I hoped my frantic and nervous appearance would be written off as fear because of my impending death.

He watched me walk back over to the stove. I sniffed and my hands shook as I sliced vegetables. I only cut a small amount. Within minutes the soup was heating up on the stove. I felt nauseous and lightheaded. I couldn't stop shaking. When I could hear him flipping channels on the TV, I kept my back to him, and slowly pulled the powder out of my pocket. I dumped it quickly into the soup and shoved the package back into my pocket. I added salt to it, trying to appear natural. I stirred the soup for a few minutes until it looked normal and not poisoned. I put it in a bowl and sat at the table.

I stared at it. I picked at the bread I brought with it.

He sat down beside me, as I expected.

"Last meal?" He inspected it. "Looks like a good one to have, although I would want something a little more glamorous than homemade soup."

I shrugged, feeling like I was about to be sick all over the table.

"You don't look like you have an appetite at all." He observed. I took a tiny bite of bread. I picked up a spoonful of the soup. I let it fall back.

"I don't." I admitted weakly, trying to look like I honestly wanted to eat the soup but couldn't.

"Then why are you trying to eat?" He asked.

I pushed the soup away and rested my head on the table.

"It isn't for me. It's for the babies."

I resisted the urge to sing when I heard him pulling the soup over to himself.

"Well, since they're going to die in a few hours, this soup is better suited to nourish me."

Yes, it is. Do onto others and you would have them do unto you. He had me ache from the inside out, now it's his turn. Let him be torn and handled with sadistic hands.

I listened to him slurp it and right then nothing could ever have made me even doubt for a tiny sliver of a moment that there was no God.

"Needs a little more flavor." He commented.

Drink all of it. Please.

I listened to him drink it.

"Did you make any more?"

I was so happy I couldn't even think straight.

It couldn't be this easy. But maybe, for once, something was going to be easy. Maybe for once, I would win.

I lifted my hand, my sickness still there. It made me weak, trembling, and pale.

"No, I didn't make any more." I stood up shakily from the table and walked over to the counter. I grasped my hand around Jake's pills. It may be too late and we may be dead in the morning. But if not, I'm not risking Jake. I shuffled unsteadily from the kitchen and into the bedroom. I grabbed the glass of water off the side table and I sat on the edge of the bed. I lightly touched his neck. He stirred and I rested a hand softly on his forehead. His fever felt like it went down some.

"Jake," I whispered, "you need to take these antibiotics."

He opened his eyes and nodded. I gave him the dosage described on the label, and laid down beside him. He held me and I held him and it felt nice to hold the world instead of crumbling hearts.

"I'm so sorry for all the things I've ever done that have broken your heart. I'm sorry for yelling at you like I did that day in the sitting room." He looked like he physically felt better once he said that. I imagined that one of the most frightening things would be to think you were going to die before you got a chance to apologize to the people you love.

"It's okay. I am sorry, too." I kissed his face for all the years we shared, and I bleed for all the years we might not get to.

He turned his face and met my lips with his. The kiss was appropriate for an assumed last kiss: full of sorrow and lost dreams.

"I just keep thinking," he started, "that all those times we got in fights…we could have been loving each other."

We never stopped loving each other. He knew that and I knew that. It was an understood fact that didn't need to be spoken. But I knew what he had meant. All the time we were fighting, we could have been making happy memories.

I turned to say something, but he had already fallen asleep again. I kissed him once more and laid there, the terrible feeling of waiting for something abhorrent settling on me. There had to be something else I could do, some other way to prevent this. I couldn't make the drugs work faster, or hold him down and put alcohol down his throat. It would take so long to take a physical toll on him and all I could do was wait.

But there were other ways to destroy someone, much worse ways. He was the master of those. Maybe it was time to explain the art of treating people the way you want to be treated.

* * *

I sat down across from him. I immediately thought of the last time I tried to play mind games with him and I clenched my left hand. My ring dug into my flesh.

"I never imagined you'd be giving up the last minutes you have with him." Luke commented. He was opening a pack of cigarettes. I never saw him use them before, and he never smelled like smoke. Strange.

"It hurts too much to be in there." I said honestly. He pulled a cigarette out. He lit it with a lighter and leaned forward. He stared me in the eyes as he took a long drag and pulled it out. He blew the smoke right into my face. I held my breath and tried to wave it away with my hand.

"Do you love him?" He asked. I blinked, my eyes watering too much to see. I had to inhale, and when I did I started coughing. Once my lungs cleared, I answered him.

"Of course I love him. What kind of question is that? You'd have to be blind to not know that. I'd die for him. I'm pregnant with his children for God's sake."

He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and the smoke lazily drifted from his mouth. I cringed away from it, my thoughts on the babies.

"Being pregnant with his children means nothing." He tapped the cigarette and continued. "If you would have been pregnant with my child, as you thought you were, would you love me?"

He was acting so strange. I needed to know what his temper was like. I spoke straight from my angry heart.

"_Nothing _could _ever _make me love you."

His face stayed unaffected.

"Really? What if I waited on you hand and foot? Told you you were beautiful so often that you really started to believe it? What if I would willingly give my life for you, even though you would not do the same for me? What if I took care of you with a tenderness to rival a parent's for years and years, never, ever expecting or receiving the same from you? Would you love me then?"

He smiled as he saw he hit a sore spot. I pressed a hand over my heart and tried to ignore his words. He didn't mean it. He heard what happened with Jake and I the other day and he was just trying to hurt me.

"You don't have any idea what the relationship Jake and I have is like." I hissed, trying to hide my pain at his words. "Don't assume you know anything."

He exhaled and I imaged he was filled with black, curling smoke. "Touchy. Is the imbalance of your relationship a sour subject?"

Anger took over fear. "There is _no_ imbalance."

He snorted. "Right."

Fury burned and vexed me. "Well what about your wife? It's obvious you only use her for convenience. I bet the poor woman cries everyday for the life she lost. Do you rape her too?"

He leaned forward calmly and slapped me across the face. I accepted the stinging pain.

"Don't talk about Alyssa." He breathed in the cigarette with new fury. He reached into a bag and pulled out gin. I stared at the dark sky while he opened the bottle. He poured the clear liquid into a glass.

"Would you like a last drink?" He offered me.

I rested hands on my stomach. I glared and shook my head. He laughed and downed the amount in his glass with one sip. He refilled it.

"You are foolish."

"You've told me that a million times." I mumbled. How do I break someone so cold hearted?

He set the bottle on the floor and leaned back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He set it on the table beside him and I longed to grab it.

"And yet, you never change." He took a sip of his drink.

Adeline kicked and I pressed a protective hand over where she was vulnerable.

"I will only change for people that are worth it. And you are not."

He swallowed a mouthful. "Only because you never gave the idea of me a chance."

I suddenly felt like I'd been drinking. Words got all muddled up and I felt more confused than I'd felt in a while.

"That's because there never even was an idea." I tried to make sense of what he said.

He stood up from his seat and walked to the kitchen. He looked in the refrigerator and pulled a lime out. He sliced it quickly and put three slices in his drink. He walked back to his previous seat and sat down.

"Yes there was. You had the option to be with me from the very start. You resisted. You never imagined what life with me would be like. The life you've lived was filled with bills and polite conversations. The life you could have lived would have been wild and spontaneous, with no rules." He took another drink.

I shook my head slowly.

"No…there wasn't. You liked me because I was a challenge, but as soon as I complied with your wishes, you wouldn't want me anymore. You want but then get angry when people always give you everything. That probably wouldn't make sense to someone who's never felt that way. It can be so terrible to always get what you want, even when you don't try to. You feel guilty and spoiled and you just want a challenge. You want to prove that you're strong enough to make it without people always bending over backwards for you. I was the challenge, because I didn't want you. For the first time, you had someone resist and ignore what you wanted. For once, you felt what it was like to be refused what you want. And to someone who's never been in a position where people always want to please them, they would rationally assume that you'd be happy just chasing the challenge. But not getting what you want makes you furious. It makes your skin crawl and your anger build. It makes you crave revenge." I stopped and swallowed, ignoring the fact that Luke and I suddenly had so much in common. "You're stuck in a never-ending circle, because no matter what, you can't be happy." I picked up my hands from my lap and touched my pregnant stomach. "Because you always want something you can't have, something you weren't supposed to have in the first place."

When I met his eyes he looked more frightened then I have ever seen him look before. I blinked back tears.

"And you just want to get past the circle so you can be whole for your family, because you're unhappiness and anger hurts them. You let your child fall in the cracks and you waste time with your spouse and you feel trapped." I shook my head and tried to stop talking about myself. It was so upsetting how easily I got the two of us mixed up. "So you have to kill me, because you're stuck in the circle, and the only way out of it is to have the temptation and want gone."

I thought about how that applied to me, and my ongoing struggle to have a baby. What if I would have done what he's doing, and just removed the temptation? If I had completely given up, which I had ended up doing, but if I had done it sooner…what would have happened? Would it have helped? What if, after Joy, I got my tubes tied and said no more children? I'd be without the babies I had now, but my life and heart may not have been so mangled. But having my heart and life mangled was worth bringing new life into the world.

"But you do have another choice." I whispered. I looked up and met his confused and bothered eyes. I took a deep breath. "It doesn't have to be this way. You have a daughter right? She's Cole's age?" I didn't wait for him to confirm. "Think about how you would feel if someone killed her. Our children are fifteen, almost grown. How would you feel if someone killed her? Can you imagine her, such a beautiful, young girl, lying dead in a casket? Have you even thought about what killing us will do it her? A girl worships her father. You aren't putting her first if you kill me. She knows what you're planning, and your relationship with her is probably damaged for a while. If you turn into a murderer, she will never respect you, trust you, or be able to feel safe around you again." I ran a hand over the babies. "Think about your daughter, Caitlyn, when she was tiny. What if someone would have killed her before she was born? What if someone would have killed your wife, Alyssa? You would have no one to fight for. They are worth struggling through this, Luke. If you love them, you'll do the right thing and see doctors instead of murdering. I know your wife will probably stand by you no matter what, but she will always have doubt in the back of her mind. She'll always be wondering if you'll lose it in the middle of the night and smother her. If she ever has another child she will always be wondering if she'll wake up with you holding a knife over her. Caitlyn will always fear you. Have you ever looked into your child's eyes and seen fear there, as if you were meant to hurt them instead of care for them? I haven't, but you will, if you do this. She'll be afraid to come home with a bad grade, afraid of what you might do to her. If she gets up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water in the kitchen, and you're there, she's going to be so scared. She won't want to go anywhere alone with you. You _will _lose your family if you do this. If there's anymore more fragile than life, it's trust."

As soon as I finished my speech, I watched him closely. Dozens of emotions ran over his face. He held his head between his hands.

"I can't think. My head is spinning." He picked up the gin bottle and peered at it. He laid back on the couch. His breathing was rough.

"Are you allergic to the truth?" I asked sarcastically, feeling a lot braver and happier that he was beginning to feel the side effects. He pressed a palm over his heart.

"My heart is beating so slowly," He gasped. His eyes kept drooping shut. When he got so weak that he couldn't hold his arm up, I stood up. I grabbed his phone off the table and he struggled to keep his eyes on me. His eyes widened and for the second time in my life I honestly surprised him.

"You…the soup…" he breathed harder, "I never thought…you were strong enough to physically hurt me…I expected the emotional…did you drug me? What did you do? You talk of how I shouldn't kill because of Caitlyn…how are you going…to explain to Cole that you…are a murderer?"

He wheezed more and I took the batteries out of his phone. I grabbed a hammer out of the drawer in the kitchen and I beat it to death. Then I took his phone and smashed it to pieces. He'd already destroyed ours, so the only other phone was the cord one in the living room, and he'd already gotten rid of that. I crossed the room and went through his jacket pockets. I had to be sure.

"Help me…" He wheezed. His chest heaved frantically and I could only imagine the suffocating feeling of his lungs refusing to inhale as they should. His hand grabbed mine. "Please...I promise I'll leave…your family alone…" His lips took on a particular purple hue. "Please, have mercy; call the hospital…help…"

I pulled away and avoided the face of the dying man. "If only you would have had mercy on me, if only just once, then I could have had mercy on you."

I went through his bag and the pockets of his laundry. When I found nothing, I hurried into the bedroom. I gently woke Jake up.

"We're leaving," I whispered. I pocketed his pills. His beautiful eyes were baffled.

"Going where?" He asked.

I grabbed his wallet and mine and put those in my jacket pocket. I pulled my jacket on and shoved my feet into shoes.

"To get Cole. I slipped Luke drugs; he's passed out on the couch. Hurry."

I helped Jake stand and he quickly got dressed. I changed my clothes as fast as I could. I grabbed a small bag and threw two complete changes of clothes for Jake and me in there, the pills, our toothbrushes, extra bandages, and the wallets. As I was walking out of the bathroom, I glanced in the mirror, and I found it unsettling that I was wearing a shirt the same color of the shirt I wore to the hospital when I was in labor with Isabella. The pants were even similar.

I threw some washcloths and a brush so I could wash my face and brush my hair at the airport, and I hurried out of the bathroom. Jake was fully dressed, and he even had a little color back to his face. His eyes took in Luke, motionless on the couch, and he looked back at me. His eyes held praise and wonderment and he kissed me. I broke it sooner than I wanted, but I needed to be out of here. I had to get away from Luke.

The cool, crisp breeze of fresh air danced over me like the breath of a newborn child and a small piece of me that had been hiding for so many years crawled out of the hole.

**safe****ty-- **_[seyf-tee]__–noun_, the state of being safe; freedom from danger or loss.

**im****pet****u****ous-- **_[im-pech-oo-uh__s] –adjective,_ sudden or rash action or emotion that is impulsive: _an_ _impetuous feeling of safety. _


	37. Cole

**A/n: **Sorry for the long wait!! I've been finishing projects and crap like that for a while. 23 days of school left :) Updates will most likely catch up speed again by then.

* * *

**"Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes, they forgive them."-- Oscar Wilde **

* * *

This is what taking a human life looks like:

It's two eyes, begging, _groveling, _for mercy. It's a degraded face with all the secrets and shames spread out on it like a pitiful, disgraced table. It's two twisted hands, grasping weakly but strongly with panic at a chest heaving like a lung cancer victim's last painful breath. But most of all, it's the sounds of pathetic wheezing, cries that were born from panic and regret, of what ifs and whys, and tears collocating at the corners. It's the frantic, pent up energy of confusion and 'what-do-I-do-now's.

For me, it's the disgrace of knowing I shouldn't feel uneasy about it mixed with the guilt that I wouldn't do it any differently if I could go back in time. Everyone knows murder is wrong. It's disgusting, vile, and irrational. Human beings have humanity and reasoning; therefore, we should be able to control the animalistic instincts to kill. Children know from the tiniest age that killing another human in unacceptable. It's just something they know, something no one even has to tell them. I wish we would all know when murder was acceptable. Was what I had done acceptable? Was it moral? Was it right? No, no, no. I knew the answers. Someone who wasn't in that apartment would say I had millions of options. I could have called the police. I could have done my original plan and just knocked him out. I could have…

I could have done nothing but what I did. I had to believe that, or I would not be able to live with this. It was my son or my soul. I will be forgiven for my sin, but I would never forgive myself if I let my son be killed. _That _is unacceptable. _That_ is immoral. _That_ is wrong.

That man, if he can even be called that, has ruined my life with the coldest of hearts. If I had to sink down to his level, which I think I always knew I would have to eventually, I was glad it was for my family.

I finished cleaning up in the airport bathroom and walked out into the busy hallway. Jake stood up from the bench he was sitting on when he saw me.

"Do you want to get something to eat before we board the plane?"

I kept my hands securely around my stomach and shook my head.

"I just want to get to Cole." What if Luke had somehow found a phone and called her? What if his wife killed my son?

We walked to our gate and sat down to wait until it could board. I was so impatient I couldn't sit still. My emotions were all over the grid and I didn't know whether to laugh in relief or cry over what I had been reduced to.

But I knew that I could breathe easier, and the words Independence Day kept flittering into my mind.

* * *

**COLE'S POV: **

A clap of thunder and a whisper jerked me awake.

The room was completely black except for the occasional lightning that lit up the room. I could tell the power was out because my alarm clock wasn't lighting up.

"Cole?"

If that is Caitlyn coming to try and seduce me again I SWEAR to—

"Are you awake?"

Oh, thank God. Emily.

I sat up.

"I'm awake. What's wrong?" I whispered into the dark. She awkwardly made her way over to the bed and sat down beside me as if there was nothing strange about it. She boldly pulled the blankets back and pulled them over her and leaned back on my pillow.

"Do you remember when we were really little and we used to make tents out of blankets and pretend there was a snowstorm and we were caught in the middle of it?" Her body heat radiated on me and the smell of her shampoo somehow relaxed me. I leaned back against the pillow.

"Yes I do. Moose would always come up right as we were talking about wolves and we always got scared."

She laughed quietly and then fell silent. Her laugh made me smile and it felt good to smile. I couldn't think of anything to say. It really wasn't awkward though. Actually, it was probably the most relaxed moment I'd experienced in a while.

"I always knew you were doing it all for attention." She yawned.

Her hair fanned out on the pillow and touched my skin. It was so fragrant and soft that I really wanted to run my fingers through it.

"Doing what?"

"All that stupid stuff. Smoking, the sex, the sneaking out…you were never a bad person."

Her words made my heart warm.

"But what about the thing with Lila?" I whispered. "I don't think that was a very good thing."

She rolled over on her side and I could see the outline of her face in the dark. I got a sudden, strong urge to hold her. It was so different from the way I felt with Caitlyn. With Caitlyn I wanted to have sex with her, but with Emily I just really wanted to wrap my arms around her if only to touch her skin and smell her hair. It made me feel uneasy, like I stepped off a cliff into midair. My heart felt weird too, like it was lodged into my throat or swollen.

"You are a good person. You have always been a good person and I have always known that. You are brave and loving and everything a guy should be."

Somehow, she said the things I needed to hear but didn't even know it. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, as if her approval of me was all that mattered.

"And sexy." I blurted out. Um, where did that come from? Stupid ego got untied.

She giggled. "Yes, and sexy."

I scooted closer. "You think I'm sexy? Well I think you're sexy too."

She laughed again and we sighed simultaneously.

"I should go back to my room. If my dad finds me in here…" She trailed off. I would honestly take Oliver's rage to having her leave.

"He won't." I argued.

"You're right, he won't." She lied. We both knew he would. She pulled the blankets up to her shoulders.

"If anyone asks, I was scared."

I felt so peaceful that my eyelids grew heavy.

"Right." I whispered.

The last thing I heard was the breathing of someone else, and I never knew how comforting it really could be.

* * *

**MILEY'S POV: **

We arrived at the place Cole was staying at very early that morning. It was lightly raining. The house was big and white and sprawling and reminded me a lot of the farmhouse I grew up in in Tennessee. I stepped out of the cab and breathed the southern air. This was what I had been missing.

"Did you miss the south?" Jake asked. He smiled at my expression. I took in the green field and nodded. Jake carried the bags up to the front door and rang the doorbell three times. My heart hurt with fear.

"It's so quiet in there," I whispered to Jake, "Do you think everything is okay?"

"I'm sure it is." He assured me. He impatiently rang it two more times.

"CALM DOWN! I'M COMING!"

Oliver's voice made me smile. If he's acting like a jerk like usual everything must be okay! He opened the door and his eyes widened.

"Miley!" He threw his arms around me and I hugged him back.

"Thank you so much, Oliver." I whispered. "You are the best friend a girl could ask for."

He dropped a friendly kiss on my cheek. "Anytime, Miley. I'm glad you're okay. And wow you're pregnant."

My smile slipped a bit and I hit his arm.

"That would be one of the first things you say to me." I glared. I wasn't really angry though. I was so happy that I was pregnant that he could have called me a whale and I wouldn't have cared.

I pushed my way into the house and took in the environment. It looked semi-clean and almost all the lights were off. I was on edge. Where was his wife?

"Where's Cole?" I asked Oliver. He yawned and walked in. He gestured at a closed door.

"Sleeping."

Suddenly, a door on the other end flew open. There was a pause and Alyssa slowly walked out. She took one look at Jake and me and fell to the floor. She cried softly and I felt like crying too.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. She looked up with teary eyes and stood up. She walked over to me and slapped me.

"You better hope he is still alive." She whispered darkly. I kept my head bowed.

"CAITLYN! WE'RE LEAVING!" She hollered. Caitlyn hurried out of her room, still in her pajamas. Her eyes widened when she saw us.

"Where are we going?" She asked her mom. Alyssa grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the house.

"Do you think they'll save him?" Jake asked. I watched them walk down the sidewalk and answered truthfully.

"No."

Oliver shook his head, "I am so confused. Someone needs to catch me up."

I begged Jake with my eyes and he sat down at the table. Oliver sat down beside him. I was walking toward my son.

The doorknob was cold. I turned it and pushed the door open.

It would figure the first thing I saw was my son and Emily Even Oken, sleeping together. I slammed the door shut in shock.

"Everything alright?" Oliver called. I cursed under my breath. If Oliver saw this he would kill Cole. I swallowed and took a deep breath. I reopened the door and hurriedly stepped in. I closed it after me.

It was very quiet except for their breathing. I was afraid to go any closer because I didn't want to accidently see more than I needed to. I bit my lip.

"Cole, Emily," I hissed. Emily sighed and turned over, her head rested on my son's shoulder. I couldn't resist the urge to smile, even though I really shouldn't have been. They both looked so happy and so in love. I don't think I've ever seen them look more beautiful. Love is the best accessory.

I walked closer and awkwardly tapped them both on the shoulders. Emily jerked awake and sat straight up. She clutched her head in her hands and then slowly looked up.

"MILEY!" She jumped out of the bed and threw her arms around me. I hugged her and smoothed her hair. She smelled like Cole. This is weird. But she was fully clothed. She had on long pajama pants and a T-shirt that didn't look like they had been removed. In fact, they both carried an innocence that they probably wouldn't otherwise.

Cole kept sleeping. I wanted to wake him up but he was sleeping so soundly that I couldn't find it in me to disturb him. I could see he was safe and that's all that matters.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and Emily sat beside me.

"Wow you're pregnant."

Like father, like daughter. The babies seemed to be waking up now. I pressed down gently over them and they turned and stretched. Odette kicked me. I took Emily's hand and set it over where Odette was giving me good-morning kicks. Adeline's were softer and sleepier.

Emily's face was mesmerized.

"That is so cool…" She muttered. She watched the outline of the small foot. "I never…wow."

I smiled at her and she glanced back at Cole. Her face showed the love she'd always had for him.

"So," I asked lightly, "mind telling me why you were sleeping with my son?"

She flushed. "I was scared because of the storm. We just slept, I promise."

I hugged her again. I remembered her as a tiny child, tottering around my bathroom and begging me to put some lipstick on her.

"I know. I trust you."

"You're the only one," She grumbled.

"You'll thank Oliver for caring so much for you one day. A girl needs a father who cares enough to be psychotic, especially when they don't have a mother."

She shrugged. "Maybe. Unless he ruins my life."

"Not likely."

She sighed. "So what happened?! Spill! How are you here? Is Jake okay? What happened to that bastard? Did you kill Caitlyn's mom?"

"I'll tell you at the same time as I tell Cole."

She nodded. We both heard heavy footsteps heading to the room beside this one.

"SHIT! HE'S GOING TO WAKE ME UP! BYE MILEY!" Emily swiftly walked out of the room and shut the door. I laid down where she was before and felt that everything was okay for once. He was safe and healthy and not even a foot away. My son was alive, my husband was alive, my babies were alive, _I _am alive.

He turned onto his back and was awake a minute later. He turned over in confusion. I didn't know what to expect.

"Mom," He simply muttered in tired relief. He hugged me and I hugged him back, my stupid hormones and the fact he was here making me cry. He let me hold him like he was my tiny baby and he fell back asleep. I remembered sleepless nights where I rocked him for hours and hours on end until he finally fell into a happy sleep.

"I love you, Cole." I whispered.

"I love you too, Mom," His voice was heavy and thick with exhaustion.

"I'm so sorry I left you," I pushed his hair back from his forehead. He really needed a haircut. "I thought you were safer. I didn't know it was a trap. But don't worry; everything is okay now. We're going to leave as soon as possible and start over."

He yawned, "If Dad would have just let me go with him in the first place everything would have been okay."

"Maybe it would have," I agreed, "But then again, maybe it wouldn't have. You just have to trust your parent's instincts sometimes." I paused and then continued. "Kind of like you have to trust that I know you're in love with Emily."

He sat straight up. He started to say something but stopped.

"Jesus, Mom! You're really pregnant!"

"Yeah, I've heard that." I replied flatly. He eyed my stomach like it was the strangest thing he's ever seen. He poked it. Adeline kicked sharply back and I resisted the urge to laugh.

"Weird. Do you topple forward when you stand?"

I snorted. "I love how you think I'm so strong. No, I don't topple over. Well, not most of the time."

He shrugged. "Sorry, but your stomach looks bigger than you."

"I'm so glad I raised you with good southern manners." I muttered sarcastically. "And don't think you're changing the subject. You are in love with Emily."

He blushed. "No I'm not. She's just my friend. It's completely platonic."

I hid a smile. "Right."

He glared. "I'm serious."

"No, no! I believe you! Platonic."

He stared at me, his face impatient. "I'm not joking, Mom! It's not…I don't…we don't…ugh!"

We both stood up at almost the exact same time. I stopped him on the way out of the room.

"You know, your dad and I started out as just platonic. Well, actually, we started off with me hating him…but…still."

"You and dad hated each other? No way."

"No. I hated him, he loved me. He was egocentric and obnoxious and everything I hated and then somehow it turned into everything I loved. Go figure."

I opened the door and we stepped out. Oliver hastily walked up to me.

"Thank God—Miley, why does Emily smell like cologne?!"

I exchanged looks with Emily and Cole. I winked.

"She probably walked into the bathroom after Cole or you sprayed some cologne. That stuff is strong you know."

I eased into a kitchen chair beside Jake. He kept a newspaper in front of his face but I could tell he was cracking up. I'm sure he didn't believe a word I was saying.

"Are you sure?" Oliver asked nervously.

I rested hands on my stomach.

"Yes, Oliver, I'm sure. It's a parent's instinct."

* * *

"_Just kill me now," I begged Lilly. She rolled her eyes and took my hand. _

"_Come on, what you got him is perfect. You're just wasting your life away, standing here staring at things you know he won't want. Go with your first instinct." _

_She pulled me out of the store and into the main part of the mall. People bumped past us, toting along shopping bags and children, and I pulled my hat lower. So far my generic hat-and-sunglasses disguise had worked very well. I guess the egomaniac in a hat was good for something after all. _

_We were here to get presents for Jake's birthday, and I'd been stressing out the whole time. What do you get someone who has the money to buy anything he likes? I ended up picking out cologne that was nice, but it still didn't feel good enough. _

"_I don't think it's perfect, Lilly." I complained. "It's not personal enough. Anyone can buy someone cologne!" _

_I angrily shoved at the door of Victoria's Secret. Lilly was right, wasting my life away was stupid. But no one said there was anything wrong with buying away my frustration and anger! _

"_Of course it's personal! Cologne is one of the most intimate gifts you can get someone! Every time he wears it he'll think of you and vice versa! Stop freaking out so much. You could buy him a Q-Tip and he'd love it." She eagerly grabbed something off a rack. She grimaced at the price tag. _

"_Whatever, he's going to hate it. I hate my life." I whined. I sniffed at perfume on display. _

"_Oh shut up. Hey, how's your uterus today?" She smelled another perfume. _

_I sighed loudly in discontent. "Completely empty." I glared at an ugly bra on a manikin. _

_She drifted toward the bras I was venting my anger on. She picked up a bright blue one with white lace that was next to the ugly one. _

"_Cute!" I complimented. She held it out in front of her and examined it. _

"_Lilly likey!" She held it in her hand and continued looking. She gave up and turned to me. _

"_But you aren't on your period. Unless you got it this morning." _

_I rummaged mindlessly through the pile of underwear on a table behind me. _

"_The lack of period says I am pregnant, the little pregnancy sticks say I'm not." I held up a thong that looked very uncomfortable and Lilly laughed at it, her hand over her mouth. It had some sort of weird animal print on it. Like a zebra/giraffe hybrid or something. I set it back down and turned to Lilly. "You know, most people assume if you don't get your period you're pregnant. But it's really easy to not get your period. For example, you can skip them when you're very stressed out, which trying to conceive happens to be. It's disappointing." _

_She pushed her lower lip out. "Poor Mwiley," She cooed, "She doesn't get to lose her hot bod for a pregnant one. You poor, poor soul. I'm sure women everywhere pity for you." _

_I glared. "That's not funny. Don't mock my goals." _

_She walked over to another part of the store and I followed. _

"_Sorry. So how are you and Jakers going about this? Do you have weird little calendars or what?" _

_I looked through all the lingerie while I pondered how to answer her question. _

"_No we're just kind of…being less restrictive." I settled with. I spotted a really pretty and sexy purple lace flyaway babydoll and pulled it off the rack. I wonder if it would be bad to shop for myself when I was supposed to be getting his birthday present. But then again this could always be a joint present! Besides, it'd make me feel beautiful and everything, but he'd probably enjoy it more than I would. _And _it was only forty eight dollars, plus matching panties. It'd be wrong to ignore a price like that. _

"_Miley? Hello?" Lilly poked my shoulder. I jumped. _

"_Sorry! I was in shopping mode! I'm back now. What did you say?" I turned to the mirror on the wall and held the lingerie up to me, trying to make sure it would look good. _

"_I asked what that meant." She seemed humored by me. _

"_Basically that I don't take birth control anymore and we can blow off responsibilities to have sex and not feel guilty about it because we're trying to bring more life to the world." I turned to Lilly, still holding the clothing up to me. "What do you think? Is purple a lucky color?" _

_She laughed and it was hard not to join in. Shopping really does make everything better sometimes. _

"_I think it will drive poor Jake insane." She paused. "Get it, hot stuff." She joked. _

_I rolled my eyes. "You're insane. But I love you." _

"_I know." She stroked a satin teddy thoughtfully and then spun around. _

"_That explains the wardrobe change!" _

_I paused in my further investigation of the rack. _

"_What?"_

_She motioned at my jean skirt. _

"_You wear more skirts and dresses than you used to. That explains it." _

_I held the pretty purple lingerie back up to me and turned back to the mirror. _

"_I don't understand. Do you think this will make my boobs look small?" _

_She ignored my question and turned around so she was leaning against the table behind her. _

"_Oh you know, easy acces—Mr. Stewart! Mr. and Mrs. Ryan! Hi!" Lilly's voice was tense. I spun around; almost positive she was tricking me. However, I froze when I found myself face to face with my father and my in-laws. _

_I smiled, embarrassment locking my joints into place. _

"_Daddy! Alana! Jim! What a surprise! We all came to Victoria's Secret on the same day! What a strange and frankly very creepy coincidence!" I awkwardly avoided their eyes. How long had they been in hearing distance?_

_They appeared just as awkward as me. _

"_We were getting Jake's present. It's a joint thing, so we all came and we saw you and Lilly from outside and decided to come and say hello." Alana explained. I wanted to move away from the lingerie but if I did suddenly it would look suspicious. _

_I nodded. "I'm getting his present too." _

_All three of their eyes locked on my body and I realized I was still holding the pretty but barely there lingerie up to me. I turned around very fast, my face burning, and shoved it into Lilly's arms. I tucked my hair behind my ear nervously. _

"_Um, that isn't for him." I stuttered. Alana raised an eyebrow and it took me a minute to realize how that might have been taken. _

"_No! I don't mean it's for someone else! I mean that that isn't what I got him for his birthday!" Although that isn't a half bad idea…_

_My dad and Jim looked like they wanted to run away and hide. I nervously motioned at my shopping bags. "I bought him something else. I was just in here wasting time. I'm supposed to meet him at the food court in about ten minutes. I was…getting sweatpants." I lied. My dad looked eager to swallow the lie, Jim looked like he couldn't believe I thought they'd fall for that, and Alana just rolled her eyes. _

"_Mmhmm." She looked at the clothing…or, well, underwear in Lilly's hands. "Sweatpants just keep getting skimpier and skimpier by each year. When I was young they were actual pants. Now they resemble lingerie!" _

_My dad flinched at the word. I felt like my face was as hot as the surface of the sun. Only I would have such bad luck. I can't even look at lingerie without my parent and my husband's parents randomly showing up behind me. _

"_Right, well, this is extremely awkward, so I'm going to go over there and die." I mumbled. I rapidly marched off. I only made it about three feet before I spun around and snatched the lingerie out of Lilly's hand and determinedly walked up to the checkout line. The trio of misery followed me. _

"_You know, this is why they invented online shopping." I mumbled. _

_My dad rested a hand on my shoulder. The cashier rang it up and I paid quickly with cash, hoping to hide my identity forever. _

"_Miles, I just want to say that,--" _

_The cashier handed me the bag. I turned around and his hand fell from my shoulder._

"_Don't worry Dad! My uterus is completely empty!" I angrily walked away. I didn't want to hear another talk from him about how Jake and I needed to be careful because I "just" had a baby and I didn't need the stress of having another one. Somehow five years ago is "just". If he knew we were trying to have a child he would probably sit me down and give me one of his long talks with all the similes and metaphors I don't understand. _

"_What in Sam's heck is up with her?" I heard him ask Lilly. They followed me out and I sat on a bench outside the store. They stopped outside the doorway and I could hear every word they were saying. _

"_I think she's a little embarrassed." _

"_Ya think?" I muttered bitterly underneath my breath. I glared at their feet until a mouth suddenly pressed against mine. I jumped and realized it was Jake. He kept kissing me in ways probably not appropriate and I wish he understood this was really not to the time for public displays of affection. _

_He pulled away and sat beside me. He was also clad in sunglasses and a hat. He grabbed the Victoria's Secret bag. _

"_Ooh, anything for me?" I smacked his hand before he could look in there. If that was going to be part of his present he wasn't allowed to see it until his birthday. He looked up in surprise and then frowned at my expression. _

"_Who's embarrassed you?" _

_I pointed wordlessly at his parents and my father at the mouth of the store. He grabbed the bag again and looked at it. He looked up at our parental figures. He looked back at the bag. _

"_They didn't!" He exclaimed. _

_I felt like crying I was so mortified. "They did. I was even holding it up to myself." I sniffed. _

"_Holding it up? What is it?" I hit his arm and glared. I was upset; he should be a little more focused on me than what I bought. _

"_I'm sorry honey," He kissed my cheek and pulled his sunglasses up. He glared at his parents. My dad glared at him and Lilly waved happily. She skipped over. _

"_Your mom is concerned about your sex life." She cheerfully sat down. I felt like shooting myself and I pressed my face into his chest. I hid my head inside his jacket until voices were a soft buzz and it was completely dark. This cologne smells new. Dammit! He already got new cologne! Screw my life. _

"_Why would she be…what did you buy in there?" He poked my side and reached for the bag again. I clenched it shut and set it in my lap. He poked me again. _

"_Miley?" _

"_I'M NEVER COMING OUT!" I screamed. He sighed. _

_I heard footsteps and I guessed he'd called his parents over there. I pulled the jacket tighter around my head. _

"_What in the world did you do to her?!" He exclaimed. _

"_She's just embarrassed." Alana set a hand on my shoulder. "Miley, are you okay, dear? I wasn't trying to embarrass you. Really. There's nothing wrong with you buying ling—_

"_LALALALA I CAN'T HEEEEARRRRR YOUUUUU! DON'T TELL MY EARS, MY INNOCENT CLEAN EARS, 'CAUSE I JUST DON'T THINK THEY'LL UNDERSTAND! AND IF YOU TELL MY EARS, THESE IGNORANCE-IS-BLISS EARS, THEY MIGHT BLOW UP AND KILL THIS MAN! WOOOO!" _

_Somehow, my dad's outburst broke the awkward silence. Laughter escaped me and Jake tickled my stomach. I laughed until my stomach hurt and I finally gave up. I pulled my head out and slumped beside him, my arms crossed over my chest, laughter slipping from between my lips. My dad sat beside me and slung an arm over my shoulder. _

"_See? Things ain't as bad as they sometimes seem, bud." _

_No, the fact they saw me buying lingerie was still mortifying. But I'll live. Maybe. _

"_Just don't give me a gun and I'll recover." I mumbled. Jim frowned. _

"_You've got my daughter-in-law suicidal!" He accused Jake in a voice that clearly stated he was joking. "Bad." He scolded. _

_Jake gasped with the air of insult, "I do _not_! You guys are the ones who embarrassed her!" _

"_You're the reason she was in there in the first place," Lilly sang. I felt another blush creep up on me. _

"_Okay, we're going to stop right there." I stood up, "Who would like lunch?" _

_I didn't wait for an answer. I grabbed the bag and took off toward the food court and I kind of hoped they'd all just not come. I love them, but they seriously could have walked away when they saw me and Lilly in there. I don't even know how they recognized me with my hat and sunglasses on. _

_I sat down at the most private booth in the food court and waited until they caught up. Some people shot me strange glances, because of the sunglasses and hat indoors, but didn't seem to be able to recognize who I was. Jake was the next person to arrive. He scooted in beside me and pulled me onto his lap. He kissed my cheek. When we saw our parents coming up, he moved me to his other side. Jim, Alana, and my dad sat down across from us and for some reason they all looked very disapproving. Lilly guiltily stood outside of the only seat available. I lifted my sunglasses and gave her a look which clearly stated she needed to sit down. _

_She played with her earring, "Umm…I'm gonna go…to Charlotte Russe. I'm not hungry." She started to walk away but then spun back around. "I'm sorry!" She exclaimed to me and Jake. "I thought they knew!" _

_She hurried off and Jake and I shot each other confused looks. What could she possibly…--_

"_Lilly said you two are trying to have another baby." Alana's voice was flat. Oh my God Lilly didn't! What the hell?! Why, why, _WHY, _would she tell them that?! Wow this day just keeps getting better and better. _

"_And if we are?" Jake challenged. _

_The three of them looked at each other and then back at us. _

"_Bud, we really don't think that's such a good idea." Dad explained slowly. _

_I felt anger stain my cheeks. I clenched my fists tightly under the table. _

"_And I really don't see how it's any of your concern." I replied evenly. _

_Alana glared. "That is our son and you are his daughter. It concerns us just as much as it concerns you two. All three of us have a terrible feeling about this." _

_Their son spoke, "Why do you have a terrible feeling about it?" _

"_We don't know. But you two know what that doctor said, and Cole is only five." Jim said gently. _

_Who did they think they were? They can't just tell Jake and __me__ when it's right to have another child! _

"_He is _our _son," I worked to keep my anger in check, "And we know that he would love to have another sibling." _

_My dad suddenly hit the table with his fist. I jumped. _

"_Mile, this has nothin' to do with him wantin' another little brother or sister! This has to do with you and Jake! We don't think you can handle it!" _

"_Why wouldn't we? We know how hard it is to take care of a baby, but we've done it before. If we want this and we're set on it, everything will be okay." Jake said. He unwound my hands under the table and took my left. _

"_No it won't." Alana said sharply. "You are setting yourselves up for disappointment. Let's play Reality Check Time, something you two obviously don't play anymore. The odds of her getting pregnant and actually carrying to full term are next to nothing. You're going to hurt yourself by even trying." Her voice softened. "I know what it's like to be young and feel like together you can move mountains. But unfortunately, love only blinds. You two are living in your own little fairy tale universe and aren't facing reality. This is the reality: this can only hurt you. If it was just me feeling this way, I'd ignore it. But we all feel like that. Just please don't hurt yourselves." _

_I took my glasses off and set them on the table. _

"_Thank you for the concern, but I think we can handle this." _

_Alana angrily spread her hands out on the table. "No, you can't! This is what makes it so much worse—you two have no idea what you are getting into!" _

_Jim and my dad nodded in agreement. _

"_How the hell do we not know?! You know the cute, sweet, blonde little boy that calls you grandma?! Yeah, we raised him!" I was shaking with anger. _

"_We are talking about you trying to conceive! We aren't worry about what happens after the child is born! You have no idea how much it can hurt you emotionally to continually be let down and disappointed by your own body!" Alana's face turned red with frustrated anger. "You both just don't get it. You are naïve and not ready at all for something like this. This will destroy you." Her lips pressed into a straight line. "Go back on birth control." _

"_Whoa!" Jake exclaimed. "Who the hell do you think you are?" _

_She gasped. "Apparently I'm the mother to the most disrespectful child I've ever met!" _

_That was it. I grabbed my purse and bag and slid out of the booth. _

"_You can tell us how to manage our sex life when we start telling you! This is our choice and it doesn't involve any of you!" _

"_We just love you Mile!" My dad begged, "You need to listen to us! You are not too old to take advice from people older and wiser. You don't see what you two are going to do to yourselves!" _

_Jake slid out of the booth and stood beside me. _

"_Yes we do. We're fighting for what we want, no matter the obstacles. Something you always told me to do, Dad. What happened to 'chase your dreams, bud!'? I don't understand you." _

_I started to walk away but Jim's voice stopped me. _

"_Don't go. We hardly get to see you two anymore. Forget we said anything and just come back. We'll eat and not bring it up again." _

_Alana glared at him. My dad agreed with him. Jake slid back into the booth. I hesitated and then sat down. Alana tapped my dad and he moved out of the booth so she could get out. I thought she was leaving, but she threw a sentence over her shoulder and she marched off. _

"_I'm ordering the food!" _

_Jake frowned. "…she didn't ask us what we wanted." _

_A silence set over us. It was very awkward, with the lingerie and wished-for-pregnancy wedged between each side of the booth. I found it hard to look in my dad's eyes. He made me feel like I was doing something wrong. I tried to tell myself I wasn't, but I couldn't shake the feeling. _

"_So how are you two?" Jim broke the silence. _

_Jake answered his question while I felt sick and uneasy. _

"_How's your CD coming along?" Jim asked me. I shrugged halfheartedly. _

"_Good, I guess." I muttered. I felt like crying. Nothing is worse than a parent's disappointment. Jake set a comforting hand on my leg. _

_Suddenly, people slid into the booth beside me. I was shoved painfully into Jake and I moved into his lap to keep from being turned into a pancake. Three of Jake's friends had come over and invited themselves to our table. They were the three least jerky, that of which I was glad for. _

"_Who the hell let you three in here?" Jake joked. The three—who go by Shia, Nick, and David respectively—grinned. Shia had on nothing to hide his identity. Nick and David both had baseball caps on. _

_Shia waved at me while David smiled in greeting and Nick muttered "hello". I nodded at them and sighed. We were going to be here _forever. _I just wanted to go home and sulk. _

_Shia's eyes fell on the Victoria's Secret bag and I quickly pulled it into my lap as his hand extended. _

"_Don't even think about it." _

_David and Nick laughed. Shia didn't seem to care. He cheerfully looked back at the rest of the table. _

"_Good, all guys, except for that ho over there." He joked. I glared in pretend anger. "I have a great joke. Okay so why doesn't Santa have any children? Because he only comes once a---"_

_I rolled my eyes and cut him off. "Everyone's already heard that disgusting joke, Shia."_

_Shia frowned. _

"_Oh! Well how about this one! A man w—"_

"_No." _

"_Oh…what about the one about the—"_

"_Not in this lifetime." _

"_But you can't have heard the one about—"_

"_Yes." _

_He sighed and David laughed. Alana walked up to the table holding two trays full of food. She glared at Shia as she set the food down. He grinned. _

"_Alana!" _

_She ignored him and slid into the booth. _

"_I still hate you." _

"_And somehow I'll live with that!" He exclaimed. She smiled nicely at David and Nick. _

"_Hello, dears. You two were always my favorite out of all Jake's friends. You're both so sweet and mature." _

_David smiled and Nick thanked her._

"_What? Are you saying I'm not sweet and mature? Michele thinks I'm VERY sweet and mature, I'll have you know." Shia angrily slouched in the booth. Alana pushed a plate toward me and I couldn't help but notice it was the most fattening of all the foods. I wasn't sure if she was aiming at making me gain weight in the hope Jake wouldn't find me attractive, or if she was purposely trying to show me what I'd be missing if I got pregnant. Either way, it pissed me off. _

_I think Jake noticed what she was doing. He ate off my plate and offered me his, which was much less unhealthy. I took it just to irritate Alana. She got huffy and set her drink down with more force than was even necessary. _

_David's cell phone suddenly went off. Shia looked over his shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows. _

"_Guess who that is, Jake?" _

_Jake played along. "Hmm…Megan? Get it David! Smack that tonight!" _

_Alana choked on her drink. _

_David blushed. "You guys…" He sighed. He slid out of the booth and answered. He walked away from the boys' catcalls. _

"_I should go join my single and free comrade," Shia nodded lazily at David. _

"_Marriage is better." Nick argued. Nick was married to a beautiful and kind woman named Jen. I'd met her once at a party. _

"_Hell yeah!" Jake exclaimed. Jake reached over me and they did their stupid handshake. Sometimes Jake was worse about talking than I was. He could talk to his friends forever. _

_Shia clapped their shoulders. "Keep telling yourselves that. I'm going to go call Michele. We're going to a movie tonight in Los Angeles and it runs late. As in, too late to be out driving. And if you married boys forgot what that means, it means we are going to need to spend the night in a hotel. I pity you." _

_Nick moved so Shia could slide out. _

"_Big deal, you're spending the night with her. When you're married you spend every night with her. Think of that, big boy." Jake grinned. Nick's smile widened and he sympathetically clapped Shia on the shoulder, just as he had done to them earlier. _

_Shia shot them a bird as he was walking off and Alana growled. _

"_Ugh, that boy is the most disrespectful child I've ever met!" _

"_I thought that was me," Jake whispered to me. I laughed and she glared at us. _

_I looked to see where David went, and I smiled to see Cole, Oliver, and Emily running over. Well, Emily and Cole were running over and Oliver was panting and trying to keep up. I tapped Nick. _

"_I need to get out." _

_He moved so I could get out and I quickly slid out. Cole threw his arms around my waist and I kissed his head. _

"_Hi, Coley! Did you have fun shopping?" I sat on the end of the booth and he sat in my lap. _

"_I did! Mommy, look at the tambourine Oliver bought me!" Cole dug into the pocket of his little jeans and pulled out a travel-size ibuprofen bottle. He shook it and I could hear the pills moving around. I gasped and glared at Oliver. _

"_Oliver! What the hel—crap! You gave my baby PILLS?! What is wrong with you?! You ass—"_

"_Oooooooooooooh!!!" Emily and Cole chorused. Emily pointed. "Miley said a bad word." Cole giggled. "She said ASS!" _

_Alana gasped. _

"_Oops!" I muttered. Jake and Nick howled with laughter and I backtracked. _

"_No, Coley, don't say that word. It's a bad word. Mommy is sorry; I didn't mean to say it. I meant that Oliver is a jack…I mean, he's a jerk." _

_Cole nodded slowly. I turned back to Oliver. _

"_As I was saying—YOU GAVE MY BABY PILLS!" _

"_Calm. He can't open that top." _

_I gently pulled the bottle from Cole's fingers. His bottom lip trembled. _

"_It's okay, Coley, I'm going to fill it with something better that you can even eat!" He sniffed. I leaned over Nick. _

"_Jake, do you have any quarters?" _

_He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed it to me. I took Cole's hand and we walked over to the candy machines. I dumped the medicine into my purse. How the hell could Oliver give my son pills? He's so careless. _

_I put a quarter in the machine and turned the knob. I opened the hatch and the candy fell into my hands. I put it into the bottle and then bought a little more until it was full enough. I put the top back on and handed it to Cole. He shook it and I handed him the rest of the candy. _

"_Go share it with Emily." _

_He nodded and ran back to the table. I walked back over and glared at Oliver. _

"_What?!" _

"_You are dead to me." _

_I sat back down and Emily crawled up beside me. _

"_Look at my princess hair!" She giggled. Her fine, dark curls were pulled back into sparkly butterfly clips. _

"_That's beautiful, Em! Your Daddy is getting much better at that!" _

_She nodded. Cole pressed some candy into her palm and she eagerly stuffed it into her mouth and then offered him a colorful smile. _

"_Do you like my dress?" She muttered around her candy. She played with the hem of the pretty, lavender dress. I hugged her and smoothed the back of her hair down. _

"_I think it makes you look like a real princess." _

_She gave me a blank look. _

"_I _am _a real princess." _

_Jake and Nick laughed. _

"_Oh, right, sorry. Silly me." _

"_Silly Miley." She thought for a moment and then stuck her fingers into her mouth. She pulled a piece of gooey candy out. "Do you want some of my candy?" _

"_No, that's okay. You can keep it." Suddenly, Cole crawled up on my lap from under the table. He shoved candy into my mouth. I prayed it was sticky from being in his clenched fist and not from being in his mouth. I chewed it quickly. It tasted horrible. _

"_Thank you, Coley. But you probably shouldn't shove candy into people's mouths." _

_He leaned over to Jake, his hand outstretched, and Jake quickly took the candy before it was shoved down his throat. _

"_Thank you, Cole." He ate it. Cole held some out to Nick, his eyebrows raised. Nick swiftly took it. _

_Once Cole had handed candy out to the whole table, he leaned his head back on me and sighed. _

"_Tired?" I asked. I smoothed his hair. _

_He sighed again. "No. I'm bored. I want to go to the park with Emily." _

"_And I'm hot!" Emily complained. She grabbed the bottom of her dress and proceeded to pull it off her. I hurriedly stopped her. _

"_Princesses never take their clothes off in public, Em." _

_She frowned. _

"_So what they just burn up?!" _

_I unbuttoned her white sweater. She pulled it off so she was just in her short-sleeved dress. _

"_Better?" I asked. She nodded. _

_Cole laughed and I looked down at him. He had his shirt off. _

"_Cole, honey, we're in public. You need to wear clothes." I worked his shirt back over his head. _

"_But Emily took clothes off! And Daddy says that boys can take their shirts off because they don't have—_

"_Shhh! No Daddy didn't!" Jake hastily said. He handed Cole a french-fry. _

"_I'm sure whatever Daddy said wasn't right for little boys to be repeating, isn't that right, Jake?" I glared at him. He smiled innocently. __Cole suddenly__ grabbed the bag sitting beside Jake. _

"_What did you buy?" He started to open it. I snatched it from him. _

"_Shots. __Everyone who looks has to get one."_

_He flinched away from the bag. _

"_And you honestly think you can handle another one?!" Alana suddenly blurted out. _

"_Another what?" Cole asked curiously. _

"_Another stove. Come on, Coley, let's go look at the toys." I promptly helped Emily out of the seat so Cole and I could get out. _

"_You haven't even told him yet?!" My dad exclaimed. It seemed him and Jim had gotten bored with their private little conversation they had going on. _

_I ignored them and marched off with Cole. Once we rounded the corner, Cole darted excitedly into a store. I followed after him and let him pick a toy out. _

_I couldn't explain to myself why I suddenly felt so uneasy. Our parents had to be wrong. Right? _


	38. Three

**A/n: **Semi-fast update! I have standardized tests all this week (kill me) but hopefully I'll update some next weekend. Thank you so much for all the great reviews!!

* * *

**"Those three words, are said too much, but not enough." -- Snow Patrol, "Chasing Cars". **

* * *

I finished my story with an air of exhaustion. I really wanted to sleep and had since I walked into this house, but things needed to be done and said before I could do that. Now that everything had been taken care of, nothing sounded better than sleeping. Adeline and Odette were playing with my ribcage and kidneys, which means they even realized it was time for me to sleep.

"That's…wow." Emily stared at Jake and me with wide eyes. I was too scared to look at Cole. I didn't want to see fear in his eyes. I didn't want him to think of me as a murderer.

"You should have _kicked _his _ass_," Cole growled in a threatening voice. Jake snorted and Emily burst into nervous giggling. I blinked in surprised relief.

"I killed him," I said slowly, as if maybe he didn't realize what I had said.

"Too humanely." He glared hard at a spot on the wall, "I would have beaten his mother f—" He seemed to realize his parents were in the room. We let the ass slide, but I don't think we'd be able to ignore the F-bomb. "I would have beaten him to death with a baseball bat." He corrected.

Everyone in the room mumbled in agreement and I felt ashamed of what I had done, like a mediocre chef feels ashamed of their food when they compare it to the finest in the world.

"Well," Jake sensed my feelings, "he's gone, and that's really all that matters, right?"

Cole nodded and took a sip of his drink. It was breakfast and for once I actually had an appetite. I cleaned my plate with enthusiasm I'd lacked for years. Everyone seemed happier. The babies seemed happier, Jake seemed _a lot _happier, and even a bird would be able to sense how much happier I was. For once everything felt like it was truly, honestly, going to be _perfect. _I believed so strongly that it was almost a religion that things were going to be okay. Cole and I were going to be okay, everyone was safe, and I was having babies, two girls who were perfectly healthy. Two girls who were _really _hurting me with the kicks this morning.

I took a very sharp one to the ribs and I inhaled sharply. I wrapped hands around my stomach and waited for the pain to ebb. The area around my rib throbbed lightly with pain. I looked up to see everyone watching me. It's funny how just being pregnant makes everyone aware of every ache and pain. Although I guess when you look like you could just stand up and the babies would pop out, people feel like they have to watch you the way they'd watch a ticking bomb.

"Kicking," I answered their questioning looks. The sleepier I got the worse my feet ached. I kicked my shoes off and rested my socked feet in Jake's lap. He didn't pause in his sentence. He continued talking and pushed up the leg of my pants, setting a warm hand on my calf. I listened to Jake talk to everyone about our plans to leave the country and go someplace new. His voice made me sleepy and content and I didn't feel the need to join in the conversation. I stroked over Adeline and Odette and they calmed a little. I wished they were here already, so I could hold and kiss them and look them in the eyes and tell them just how much of a miracle they are. But I was as content as you would expect to have them under my skin, as safe as they will probably ever be but just as unsafe at the same time.

I wondered if they would look anything like Izzy—when did Jake's nickname get imbedded into my mind?—and Joy. For once I felt like maybe that wouldn't hurt that much. For once I felt like maybe I could, not accept, that would never happen, but learn to handle their deaths better. I could never think there was a good reason for it, but it happened and I cannot bring them back to life, no matter how much I mourn. No matter how many tears I cry, my babies will never cry again. No matter how angry I get, my babies will never grow to feel the emotion. I had to stop beating myself up so much, if not for my sake, for the babies I had now. Parents learn just as much from their children as children learn from their parents, and one thing my son had taught me was that putting the memories of one child in front of the one still alive was wrong.

A smile curved on my face as I saw the faint outline of a tiny fist. I gently touched over it and it didn't retreat. I touched my daughter's hand for what felt like beautiful years before it slowly moved back to the depths of its home.

My back and feet ached so badly I probably should be taking pain killers, I cried over everything, I was so tired all the time, my boobs hurt, sometimes the babies settled weirdly over my bladder in a way that made me need to pee a lot more than usual, they had a tendency to kick and punch me in places where it hurt very badly, and I was the size of a whale. But I wouldn't trade this body back for my old body for anything. This body was life. Life I was making. This body was my babies and nothing was more beautiful than feeling them move or seeing them kick. There just couldn't be. Anything more beautiful would make me collapse to the floor in tears.

"Miley?" Jake touched my cheekbone, "what's wrong?"

I sniffed and realized with embarrassment I was crying. I wiped my face.

"Dammit, not again," I groaned. I'm way too sensitive these days.

"I was remembering being able to see my toes," I joked. Cole laughed and the sound made Emily just light up. She smiled and seemed more relaxed and content. I think Oliver noticed too because he got really pouty. He wrapped his arm around her as if to remind her she was his little girl. I didn't know what Oliver was going to do once Emily grew up. She was his life. What happens when she gets her own that doesn't involve him?

The answer came out of a bedroom looking very confused. Oliver stood up and crossed the room. He held Claire and whispered explanations to her. My face hurt from smiling. So much love. It was amazing.

"How are you feeling?" I asked Jake. His cut didn't seem to be bleeding through the bandage and his fever went down. He'd need to take some more medicine tonight. He smiled and touched my stomach.

"Don't worry about me. What about you?"

I took a strong kick just as I was about to answer. I drew in my breath again and smiled tightly.

"I didn't have an infection. I'm fine." I answered. The truth of the statement made us both smile and I wanted to kiss him. It was a sudden desire and I had to look away to keep from pushing my chair over and pressing my mouth against his.

"I want to go home." Cole said suddenly. I looked at him.

"We're going to leave tomorrow." I reassured him. He shook his head.

"I mean I don't want to move. I want to go back to the house I've lived in my whole life. I want to go back to California." I understood the words he didn't say. _I want to go back where Emily is going. _And I knew right then we weren't going anywhere. I couldn't move him from her. I glanced at Jake and I knew he understood.

"We'll go home." I promised him. "Home in California."

His shoulders relaxed and he smiled. "Thank you."

I extended my hand and took his that was lying on the table. I squeezed it lightly and dropped it. My son. Those were the only words going through my mind. _My _son. There was so much pride and happiness in being able to claim him as my child. I grabbed the table and pushed myself out of my chair. I walked over to him and hugged him tightly.

"I am so proud of you," I whispered to him as if it were a secret just between us. "Anybody would be lucky to have you in their life. You are the best son I could ever have asked for." I kissed the top of his head and released him from my arms. For a moment he was four again, and the world was made of happiness and chocolate. He smiled and something that had long been out of sync fell into place and I realized all he had ever wanted was my love and pride. It had been that easy all along? But of course it had. Everything good in this world was so easy it was almost impossible.

He hugged me back and his responding secret fixed my heart.

"You deserve this." And I knew immediately what he meant. I deserved these babies, I deserved our patched relationship, I deserved happiness. And those three words seemed like the best thing I'd ever heard, save three other ones. It seems good things always come in threes.

I smiled so much the muscles in my face ached. I sat back in my seat and Jake took my hand under the table. I finally felt content enough to rest peacefully. I yawned.

"Can it be bedtime?" I sleepily asked Jake. He laughed and looked just as exhausted as me.

"Yes, it can." He promised. He turned to Oliver and talked to him about a cookout tonight or something of the sort. I was so tired my mind was foggy. He took my hand and helped me up. He led me down a long hallway and opened a white door. There was a twin bed pushed again a wall.

"We are not going to fit on that," I muttered. But I moved to it anyway. I crawled under the covers and all the muscles in my back relaxed. I sighed and decided this was the most comfortable bed I've ever been on. The sheets were cold and soft and the mattress was perfect. Jake slid in beside me and somehow we fit perfectly and with a sleepy mind I thought to myself that of course we fit, of course. Nothing bad could happen today.

The blinds blocked the sun well and I snuggled up to Jake as well as I could. Once I could smell him and hear his breathing, I let myself fall into the best sleep I'll probably ever had.

* * *

She breathed nervous, painful ice as she watched the men in white coats surrounding him. This would not happen to him. Not him. Anyone but him. This could not happen to him. He was the strongest person she had ever met. He would survive. He would prevail.

He would stay for her.

A doctor pushed her out into the waiting room. She sat deathly still in an icky chair. She watched their daughter stare at the wall. She took one look at her daughter's expression—deep in thought—and knew she was a lot like her father. More than he would ever like.

He will not die. He will not die. He will not die. He _cannot _die. He can't. She got to him in time.

She chewed ice. She chewed so much ice her teeth ached and throbed and her stomach was full of water. She kept chewing the ice. Hours and hours later, a white coated man walked up to her. He took her hand. Don't touch me, she wanted to scream.

He stared evenly at her. She couldn't breathe. Her head hurt. She needed oxygen. Just breathe, she tells herself, inhale. But she couldn't.

And slowly, as if it were paint trickling off a paintbrush, the doctor smiled.

* * *

**MILEY'S POV: **

My daughters woke me up. The crickets sang the melody of a southern night and I blinked against the darkness. I felt so rested I wanted to cry in relief. Adeline kicked against my spine and Odette turned restlessly. I pushed myself into a sitting position and pushed my shirt up. I leaned forward and kissed the top of my stomach. I secured my hands around the bottom of it.

"I love you," I whispered to them. Jake kept on sleeping. "You two are miracles."

I watched them kick in the dim moonlight. I suddenly heard Emily's giggle. I strained my ears and I realized it was all coming from outside the window. I heard Oliver and Cole's deep voices and Emily's high one as they conversed.

I tried to remember. Hadn't Oliver and Jake said something about a cookout?

Jake woke up suddenly. He kissed me with a happiness I hadn't felt in years. He moved closer and rested two hands on the exposed skin of my stomach. The babies calmed and fell asleep a few minutes later.

"You can feel them move now," He whispered sleepily. I hadn't known this and it made my heart jump. I could feel them move from the beginning but I realized he couldn't feel that until they were bigger. I hadn't realized they'd already gotten that big.

"They're growing." I whispered back.

"I love them." He kissed me again. "And I love you." He laughed at the sounds of everyone outside. "And I love Cole, even though he's probably the biggest flirt since I was that age."

"Probably," I agreed. My heart was swollen with the familiar love that made me want to tear him to pieces, in the most non-violent way possible, of course. He kissed me hard and I could tell he felt the same way. My heart raced. Almost sixteen years and he still raised my blood pressure and heart rate. I wasn't sure how it was possible to love someone so fucking much it made your heart hurt, I just knew I felt it. It was love so strong it made my stomach shaky and my sanity unbalanced. My hands shook and I realized if I didn't have him right now I would probably break down in hysterics. My stupid pregnancy hormones really made this much love unbearable.

"I need you," I whispered and I knew he knew what I meant. It was the first time I'd needed him because I was so happy, not because I needed comfort. And it was a strong feeling that made me breathless. Never had I felt happiness this extreme. With new lows comes new highs.

He stroked my back and I realized then that I loved every single bit of him from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. It was something that I knew I had always known but it crept out on me like it had been waiting for the moment. He acted like he realized the same thing at the same moment and we were kissing but somehow it felt like singing. Then he was touching me and I was touching him but somehow it felt like the caress of music if it were ever solid or the feeling of ocean waves hitting against you when all you have planned for the afternoon is a day at the beach. And somehow every word he said to me sounded like _I love you _because it all meant the same thing. All the bad words and bad things and bad memories left the world and it was just good words and good things and good memories. It was words like _love, trust, beautiful, faith, believe, need, want, have, touch, kiss, smile, laugh, happy. _It was good things like marrying the person you love the most, even if you're an hour late for the wedding, things like ice cream on a hot summer day or hot chocolate on a cold one, or a perfect movie that you see with your first boyfriend, or realizing that you have done everything in your life that you ever wanted to do. It's good memories like New Years parties and a heart-to-heart with my mother before she died, and a look in Jake's eye that tells me we can survive anything. It's moonlight and lips and fingertips on bare skin and the knowledge that good things come in every number, but especially threes.

It's the knowledge that there is only so far down you can go, but the sky goes on forever.

* * *

An hour, new sheets, and a quick shower later, we were walking out into the dark to meet the rest of the party. Jake kept an arm my waist and my smile would not leave, even when my face felt like it was cramping. We entered a cute little part of the yard, with a swing and three chairs surrounding a fire. Cole and Emily were sitting in two chairs, roasting marshmallows. Oliver was munching away at the chocolate for the s'mores. He smirked at us as we approached and I ignored him and sat down on the swing. Jake sat down next to me and I didn't want a marshmallow at all, but not because I was too sick to eat, but because I was too full. I rested my head against Jake's shoulder and he stroked my hair. I watched Cole say something to Oliver. Emily quickly leaned over and ate the marshmallow off his roasting stick before he looked back. When he finished talking to Oliver, he looked back at his stick and frowned. Emily stared off in the woods like nothing happened. He narrowed his eyes at her and she was up. She ran away and he chased her. Oliver growled. He sat on the other side of me.

"They have done nothing but flirt since we've gotten out of here," he complained. Cole caught her around the waist and in the dim light I could see him playfully demand something. She giggled and nodded. He held her a second later and then released her. They walked back and every few seconds their hands touched. There was no doubt in my mind at that moment that they were going to get married one day.

"They are in love." I prepared Oliver.

He sighed. "I know."

Cole and Emily joined the party and I remembered them as tiny babies, sharing a crib. They would always hold each other's hands in their sleep.

Emily flirted with an innocent grace similar to the grace in her dancing. Cole flirted with cockiness that reminded me so much of Jake I had to laugh.

"What?" Jake asked.

"He inherited the Ryan ego. Can't you tell?"

Jake laughed loudly and kissed my neck. "Please, I've known that since before he was born."

I rested my head on the back of the swing and looked at his jaw line.

"He controls it better than you do, though." Props for Cole.

"That's because you're his mother." Jake answered as if this were the most logical thing in the universe.

"Humble little Miley," Oliver joked. I smiled at him and he smiled back, a smile so familiar it warmed my soul.

"You're going to be the best in-law," I exclaimed. His smile melted away.

"Don't you even talk like they already married. They aren't even together yet." His eyes were wide with fear.

"Give it time," Jake answered.

"I'd rather not." Oliver stood up as his daughter scooted closer to Cole. I grabbed his arm.

"Don't you dare. Let what's meant to happen, happen."

Emily stood up from in front of the fire and walked over to a CD player. I hadn't even heard any music playing. She turned it up and a soft country song surrounded us all. She seemed to waltz back to him and she sat back down on the ground beside him. She gave him her next marshmallow, and I guessed that was their deal. The song defined the moment and I wished everyone could know how crazier the person you love really did make you.

They both reached into the bag for a marshmallow and scrambled for the last while both laughing. Emily pulled it out, an aura of victory around her, and Cole wrapped both his arms around her. Oliver shifted angrily beside me. Cole whispered something to her and she pulled back and shook her head once, everything about her seeming to laugh. He said something else and then let her go. She tore the marshmallow in half and speared one half onto his stick. They roasted them and I suddenly felt like they needed to be alone.

"Let's go inside." I whispered to the men beside me.

"And leave them out here alone? Oh _hell _no!" Oliver exclaimed.

"Get your ass up." I commanded.

"No."

"Don't ruin her chance at love." I glared. I looked up at the house and Claire was motioning at us. I nudged him.

"Look, Claire wants you to come inside."

He reluctantly looked up.

"Fine. But only because Claire wants me to and she won't come out here because the mosquitoes." Jake and Oliver stood up and offered me one of their hands. They helped me to my feet.

"We're going inside. It's boring out here." I yelled over my shoulder.

"Bye!" They chorused.

"Don't stay out too late!" Oliver screamed. His voice clearly said, _Because I'll be waiting up for you. _

"Okay, Daddy!" Emily yelled.

We were a few steps away when Oliver exploded.

"She called me daddy! How can she be in love?!" He looked like he might cry.

"Let it go, Oliver. She's still your daughter." I soothed.

"No," he said sadly, "she's Cole's girl now."

And poor Oliver was probably correct.

* * *

**COLE'S POV: **

Emily leaned her back against the chair and the firelight made her come alive. The bright shadows made her look so beautiful that it was very hard to keep my eyes off her. And it was right then that I realized she was more beautiful than Caitlyn, a lot more beautiful. I didn't understand how I hadn't realized it until just now but when I pictured Caitlyn in my mind, her beauty just wasn't up to Emily's par. Caitlyn's hair was chocolate brown, stick straight, and so shiny…but something about Emily's almost-black curls made not touching her hair unbearable. I don't even think she realizes how beautiful she really is, and somehow that makes her even prettier.

"They are so leaving to give us privacy," Emily laughed. She checked her marshmallow. She was probably right. That's definitely something my mother would hatch up.

I put my stick back into the fire.

"They think we're in love," I tried to sound nonchalant about it but I didn't think there was anything nonchalant about love.

She stayed silent. She pulled her stick out of the fire and watched her marshmallow burn for a moment before blowing the flame out.

"That must be why my dad's been pouty all day." She blew on her marshmallow.

I laughed and let my marshmallow get a little darker.

"Probably. That sounds like Oliver."

A song caught my attention and I listened for what felt like hours. You're right, LeAnn Rimes, love really doesn't make sense.

"Surely I'd be a step up from Lila though," She joked. We glanced at each other at the same time and I couldn't explain why it felt so funny when our eyes met. It kind of scared me. I felt shaky and for a moment a random thought squeezed into my mind: _I would rather die than be without her. _

Where did that come from?! What is going on? I don't understand. Is this love? Is love feeling like you're recovering from the flu when you look into the person's eyes and knowing you'd do anything for them, even die? Because if that's it, it doesn't sound very fun at all. Why would anyone want to be part of that?

"You'd be a whole _world_ up," I answered. I had another strange thought. I knew without a doubt for a moment that if Emily had gotten pregnant we both would have stayed together and worked things out. We would have gotten married and raised the child and been together forever. I shook my head. Maybe this wasn't love. Maybe this was just insanity. _Is there a difference? _

She bit into her marshmallow and smiled as she chewed. The same urge to hold her took over me and I shoved my marshmallow into my mouth to keep from wrapping my arms around her.

"As much as my dad would never admit it, I think he'd prefer you to anyone. Even if that's only because he knows where to find you."

We both laughed and the night was alive with music and possible-love. It felt just like a country song. I'd never cared for this genre in music before, but I knew that I would listen to it after tonight, and every song would remind me of marshmallows and her skin glowing in orange light.

A man sang about God blessing the road that led him to the girl he loved, and I realized that I had had Emily all along. From the moment I was born I had had her there. Even when I called her a loser and told her to get out of my life, she stayed. Always persistent, always there to remind me she wasn't going anywhere. It was something that pissed me off so much when I was in my rebellion stage but now made me smile and my heart do that weird inflation thing again.

She crawled back from the fire and laid on her back, staring at the sky. I laid beside her. The long grass scratched my skin but felt comfortable just the same. I wanted to draw again. Something about her presence inspired me. I watched her watch the stars and another one of those strange thoughts wiggled into my mind. _If I could spend the rest of my life watching her watch the stars I would be happy. _

I stopped thinking for a moment and as soon as I did, my hand touched hers. We joined hands. You read and hear the way people's hands fit together like puzzle pieces everywhere. But I never realized or understood the saying until it happened to me. Our hands really did fit, just like everyone said. It wasn't so much as them both being the perfect size as the way the both molded together and it felt right. Holding Lila's hand made my palm sweaty and my hand cramp. I couldn't ever dream holding her hand would do that.

A man sang about how a girl shouldn't kiss him like that, unless she means it like that. And right then I decided that song and all the others that had played tonight were our song, no matter how cheesy things like that are. The man sang the story of the night.

_They're all watching us now, they think we're falling in love, they'd never believe we're just friends. _

The problem was even I was having a hard time believing it. I don't think my heart feels strange when I look in my other friend's eyes. I don't think that's a very platonic thing.

Another one of those random thoughts swam into my mind and this time it wouldn't stay inside.

"I think I love you!" I blurted out. My face colored in the firelight and starlight and I felt like throwing myself into the fire. Emily turned her head and looked into my eyes and I felt shaky again. How had I never noticed how gorgeous her eyes were?

She rolled them and laid her head back down.

"It's about time."

She glanced at me with a smile and I couldn't stop laughter from taking over me. I rolled over and wrapped both arms around her waist and I no longer felt as shaky as I did before. I held her tightly and tried to make my gaze threatening.

"What was that?"

And for the second time since she got here, she pressed her lips against mine. My heart swelled even more and I kissed her back, feeling foolishly like this was my first kiss, like I didn't know what I was doing. The movies and songs and books were wrong. It wasn't like fireworks. It was like getting shocked over and over again by a wall socket, but in the most pleasant way possible. And I understood then what was so amazing about love because when I was kissing her everything made sense and there wasn't one question in the world that I would care to be answered because all that mattered was her. It made the world make sense.

She broke the kiss.

"I love you, too. And it took you long enough to realize you love me too." She whispered. She was right. It had taken too long.

"I'm kind of slow. But I think I make up for it in looks, don't you think?" I teased. She moved closer against me and I couldn't help but kiss her for the third time. This was even better than before.

And for the third time since we came here, she ended up on top of me. I wondered how someone's knuckles could be so beautiful.

"I think you are one in a million," She answered truthfully. I wish she understood how much that statement went back to her.

And, because everything seemed to be a triangle tonight, Oliver walked up on us for the third time.

"EMILY EV—"

"I'm getting up, Daddy, save your breath."

She rolled off me and we both climbed to our feet. Oliver pushed us back to the house, all the while never running out of screams, but I don't think either of us heard it. All I heard was Martina McBride singing about love.

* * *

**Miley's POV: **

I nudged Jake as the three of them came back into the house. We took one look at them and understood. Those goofy smiles could only mean one thing.

"Did you two have fun?" I asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Emily joked. Oliver angrily sat on the other couch and Claire stroked his head as if that would calm him down.

Cole and Emily sat down beside each other and I nudged Jake again when they held hands.

"Look!" I hissed. I hit his arm again.

"I can see! You don't have to hit my arm," He complained.

I sighed happily, "They are perfect for each other."

"ARE NOT!" Oliver howled from across the room.

"Shhh," Claire comforted. He sniffed and buried his head in her shoulder. She shrugged at us and smoothed his hair.

"So when's the wedding?" Jake exclaimed. Cole and Emily blushed.

"What wedding? Who said anything about a wedding?" Cole stuttered. Emily moved closer to him and I narrowed my eyes.

"The wedding that _better _come before _this_," I patted my pregnant stomach.

"Mooooooom," Cole whined in embarrassment. Emily giggled and wrapped an arm around him. Oliver whimpered.

"You don't have to worry about us, Miley." She looked at Cole. "Cole's role model is Jesus."

"Told you that worked!" Jake bragged happily to me.

"So was mine." I muttered sarcastically.

"SO WAS YOUR MOTHER'S, EMILY!" Oliver howled. He broke down in sobs.

Emily slid off her chair and walked over to where her dad was. She sat on the armrest and wrapped an arm around him.

"Oh, Daddy," She sighed.

"Welcome to the world of dealing with overprotective fathers." Jake muttered to Cole. They both grimaced the same grimace.

I touched Jake's arm. He looked at me.

"You need to take your antibiotics." I reminded him. He glanced down at his arm. I didn't bandage it again after the shower because it really needed to get air. It looked like it was healing. I kissed it and then had to kiss his lips twice because one kiss wasn't enough. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck twice and my lips once.

"I will, later." He answered. The lights went off almost the same moment a heavy downpour pounded against the house.

"This house is terrible about keeping power during storms," Oliver complained. In the dim light I saw Emily start to stand up. Oliver held her back.

"You aren't going over there in the dark." He argued.

"Oh my God, Dad."

I think it was the _dad _that made him release her. She sat back beside Cole. I was finding the dark uncomfortable because it made it harder to ignore all the sparks that emitted whenever Jake and I touched each other.

"Okay, this is really awkward." Claire voiced every couple's thoughts. The sound of the storm made me smile. Oh how I missed southern summer storms.

"Let's play a board game!" Cole suggested in a strained voice.

"Good idea!" Jake agreed.

"…do we _have _any board games?" Emily asked.

Silence.

"I'll look!" Oliver jumped up.

"I'll get some candles!" I exclaimed. It took me a moment but I stood up. I had no idea where anything was in this house.

"I'll show you where they are," Cole offered.

He led me down a dark hallway. He opened a door and handed me a cool flashlight. I flicked it on. He flicked another on. I smiled at him once I could see him.

"So, you and Emily?" I asked casually. I spotted candles in a box. I started to pull it off the shelf and he quickly took it out of my hands.

"I don't think you're supposed to be lifting things." He avoided my question. He held the box.

"I'll take that as a yes," I grinned, "Are there matches in the kitchen?"

"Third drawer beside the fridge."

We walked back toward the kitchen. And I suddenly stopped him. Right then I wanted to tell him that it was okay to be afraid, I wanted to share the knowledge I had learned over the years; that falling in love is, in a way, substantially more frightening than expecting a child or baring it all for a photoshoot. But I looked at him and realized that he didn't need my advice, he had figured it out all on his own. I smiled to myself.

"Your shoe is untied." I muttered. He simply kicked them off and left them in the hallway. We entered the living room.

"I found Clue and Life!" Oliver said. He sat down at the coffee table.

"Life!" Emily exclaimed. Oliver grabbed that game and pushed Clue away.

Cole sat the box of candles on the counter and went to sit beside Emily. Jake set a hand on the small of my back.

"Need some help?"

"I don't think you should play with fire," I joked. He kissed the back of my neck in a way that made my knees weak. I quickly shoved a candle into his hands.

"Light away." I said. I grabbed the matches out of the drawer and lit the first candle.

We lit all the candles quietly, each thinking. We smiled at each other in the candlelight and we couldn't help but kiss each other every few candles. Once they were all lit, we stared at them.

"Oh. We should have lit them over there. How are we going to get them all to the table?" I asked.

Jake burst into laughter and I followed. I laughed until the babies settled over my bladder. Then I stopped because it would be embarrassing to pee myself.

"I have to pee," I struggled through my laughter.

"Thanks for sharing!" Oliver yelled.

I spun around. "Shut it, Oken! I have two babies sitting on my bladder!"

He fell silent.

"That doesn't sound comfortable." Cole said.

"Tell me about it." I struggled to keep from laughing again.

I grabbed a flashlight.

"How about you guys move these candles over there while I go to the bathroom?"

"I'll show you where it is!" Jake offered. Yeah like that was going to happen.

"I know where it is. Help move the candles."

I walked down the dark hallway and realized it's a lot scarier when I'm alone. The bathroom was very dark. I set the flashlight on the sink and peed quickly. I flushed and washed my hands. The shower curtain behind me was freaking me out. What if someone was behind it? I should have let Jake come. Something fell in the shower and I screamed in fright. The bathroom door opened and Jake shined a flashlight in.

"You should have let me come," He smirked, "I know you. I knew you'd get scared."

I grabbed the flashlight and sniffed.

"I wasn't scared. I was…startled."

He nodded slowly. "Right."

I sighed as my heart overflowed with love and happiness.

"I love you." I kissed him but had a little trouble making myself pull away.

"I love you, too. But if we don't leave the bathroom now we won't for another hour," He warned. I nodded in agreement.

"I know. Let's go."

By the time we made it back to the living room, they had already started the game.

"Thanks for waiting." I glared.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "We didn't know when you guys were going to come back. It isn't unlike you two to just disappear for hours."

Jake laughed and sat with me on the couch because there was no way I could get onto the floor.

"There's only four pieces so we split into pairs," Oliver explained. He handed us the red game piece. Jake put a blue and pink peg into our car and spun the wheel and moved our piece.

He laughed and looked at me. "Baby boy," He read off. He put another peg into our car, laughing all the while. I smiled. As if they knew we were talking about children, the babies turned and stretched.

It was Cole and Emily's turn. Emily turned the wheel and moved their car (it was blue). She awkwardly sat back.

"Get married."

Oliver fell into a coughing fit and hit the wheel.

"No, honey, that's four, not three. It's actually happy honeymoon—No!" He hit it again. "It's actually pay day! That wheel is so spastic."

Oliver spun for him and Claire and they landed on get married. Cole leaned forward and slammed his hand into their wheel. It landed on two instead of eight. He moved back their piece. He smiled a sweet smile.

"Night school. Pay twenty thousand dollars."

Oliver glared and Cole matched his glare and Jake, Emily, and I couldn't stop laughing.

Jake rolled for our team again. He took my hand and kissed it, his eye laughing.

"Twins," I laughed with him and we collected the money having a child and twins got you.

Cole spun this time. He seemed smug when it landed on tropical vacation.

"Bahamas here we come!" He joked with Emily. Oliver knocked into the board and their piece moved to recycle your trash.

"Our turn!" Oliver exclaimed. He spun and landed on find buried treasure. He grinned.

Cole moved it to tornado hits house. He smiled.

"Just learn who you're messing with." He warned Oliver.

Emily quickly intervened. The rest of the game continued the same, with Cole and Oliver intent on destroying each other's Life. Jake kept landing us on having children and finding buried treasure and our Life was good.

In fact, everything was good.


	39. Progress

**A/n: **Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorrryyyyy!!! I know the wait has been ridiculous and I apologize. State tests, finals...all that fun stuff was going on the past three weeks. But the good news is I only have three hours of school tomorrow and then I'm out for the summer which means faster updates! I'm going to go ahead and post this now, without sending it to my betas, because the wait was so long...but I'm not so sure that's really a good thing LOL I tried to read over it but there's probably a few mess ups in there but bear with me. Sorry ahead of time. Okay I better hit the hay. Goodnight!

* * *

**"So here we are and that's pretty far, when you think of where we've been." -- Kelly Clarkson, "You Found Me". **

* * *

_I trudged up the stairs carefully, dreading what this next exchange was surely going to bring. I didn't feel like fighting with him today. I prayed he would just be nice and come instead of making such a big deal about being difficult. _

_I knocked twice on his door. I could hear the sounds of his video game. _

"_Cole," I yelled. The sounds of the game didn't pause. "Cole, get ready. We're leaving for Emily's recital in thirty minutes." _

_No response came from his room. I sighed and leaned my forehead against the wood. I knocked again, harder this time. _

"_Cole! Did you hear me?! We are _leaving _in _thirty minutes_!" I screamed. I tried to not get angry when he didn't reply. Maybe he really didn't hear me because of his game. But it was more likely he was ignoring me. _

_I turned the doorknob which was, as I had suspected, locked. I hit the door with my fist. I was getting angry now. _

"_COLE!" _

_Something screamed on his video game. I leaned fully against his door. I called his name one more time. _

"_Fine," I mumbled to myself, "if he wants to play then I'll show him who invented the game." _

_I turned around and walked down the hallway. I entered Jake's office and pulled the skeleton key out of the drawer. I walked back to his door and stuck the key into the lock. I turned it until I felt the click, and then I turned the doorknob. I tried to push the door open but something was in front of it. The sounds of the video game were louder now and I realized he had half his dresser against the door. Somehow that hurt me. Did he really want us to leave him alone that much? _

_My sudden hurt made me pause and my anger retreat a few feet. I breathed evenly and told myself to be nice so he wouldn't hate me anymore than he already did. _

_I reached my arm in through the small gap and tried to push his dresser out of the way. It wouldn't budge at all. I pushed it harder, and it rocked forward for a moment, only to fall back and slam into the door. The door jerked back and shut on my arm. _

"_SHIT!" I screamed. I pulled my arm out. "God dammit," I hissed in pain. I held it still and contained my breath for a few moments until the sharp pain ebbed to a strong throbbing. A bruise was already starting to form. I gently rotated my wrist and then my forearm at the elbow. Well, nothing was broken. _

_I looked at the door in disbelief. I knew he knew I was out here and trying to get in, but he still kept silent and immobile. For a moment I felt like giving up and just leaving, but the anger stuck its head out again and I opened the door a little once more. I pushed the dresser more carefully this time, and once it had moved a little, I turned and slid through the gap and into his room. _

_He didn't even glance up. His short, blonde hair was messy and he was still in his pajamas. I went over to his TV. I stood beside it. _

"_Cole." _

_He ignored me. I kneeled down and reached behind the cart the TV was on and unplugged everything I saw. _

"_What the fu—"_

_I cut him off. "Don't you even think about it." I stood back up and narrowed my eyes at him. He glared back with a face so full of hate I felt sick. _

"_If you ever ignore me like that again I swear—"_

_This time he cut _me _off. _

"_You'll what? Take away my TV or computer? Whatever, Mom. Go ahead. Take it away. See if I give a shit." _

_Looking at him, I felt like I was looking at the biggest mess in the world. I wanted to clean it up so much, but I just didn't know where to even start. _

_I sighed and felt weary and decades older than I really was. _

"_Cole, we're leaving in thirty minutes to go to Em—"_

"_Yeah, I heard you the first time." He snapped. My anger soared._

"_Oh really? Then why didn't you come open the freaking door?" _

_He climbed to his feet and walked over to his desk. He sat in his chair. _

"_Because I don't care and I'm not going and I don't want to talk to you." He stared me dead in the face and delivered the words softly, as if they were nice things instead of hurtful ones. _

"_Well you're going and that is final. Get dressed, brush your hair, and get your ass downstairs." I started toward the door. _

"_And what if I don't?" He challenged. "Are you going to give me a spanking?" He rolled his eyes. _

_I had to clench my fist to keep from slapping him. The violent urge left me upset at myself. He was my baby. But right then I had wanted to hurt him. _

_My voice shook from my anger. "If you don't I swear to _God _I will send you somewhere where they can straighten you out." _

_I think my threat through him a little aback, because I had never threatened to send him away before. My anger kept at a constant level and I was about to say something else when he started talking. _

"_Is it somewhere where I get a new mother?" _

_The words shied away from my lips and I exhaled heavily, his words gnawing at my heart. So that was it? He wanted a new mother? My eyes burned and I wished he could have a new mother, someone who he loved because he didn't love me. _

"_What the…" _

_I turned around to see Jake struggling to get in the room. He moved the dresser a bit and then squeezed in as I had. He looked at me and then Cole and sighed. _

"_What did you say to her?" He accused Cole. I turned away and started to leave but Jake grabbed my arm. _

"_What did he say to you?" Jake asked. I knew he thought that if he just got Cole to apologize it would be all better. But it wouldn't. _

"_I don't want to talk about it," I pulled my arm and his hand slid down, grabbing tight over where the door hit me. _

"_Ow," I cried. He let go of my arm. He looked at it. _

"_What did you do to your arm?" He asked. I looked at Cole over his head. If I told him it was because of the dresser I don't think he'd be very happy with our son. Even when I wanted to slap Cole, the urge to protect him was strong. _

"_I hit it." I replied lamely. _

_Jake glared at Cole. "I don't suppose it would have anything to do with the dresser our genius son put in front of his door?" _

_I avoided his eyes. "Nope." _

_He continued to glare at Cole. "Don't pile anything in front of your door again." _

_Cole rolled his eyes. _

"_Get ready. Now." Jake commanded. Cole didn't move. _

"_Did you hear me? Get some clothes and go into the bathroom and get ready right now. I'm going to wait outside the door." _

_Cole gaped. "That's ridiculous." _

"_Yes," Jake stared at him, "It is _completely _ridiculous. Go." _

"_What if I don't want to go and see that stupid girl's stupid and lame recital?" Cole whined. _

"_Well that's just too damn bad, isn't it? Because you're going even if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out to the car like that." _

_He stared at us. My anger couldn't be contained. _

"_Cole!" I screamed. "Get up go get ready! DAMMIT! Why can't you just be reasonable for once?! Why does everything have to be a war?!" I stopped myself right before I kicked his desk. I left the room before I lost my temper any more than I already had. I leaned against the wall outside his door. Jake talked to him in a quiet voice and said things I couldn't hear. A few moments later, they both came out. Cole was dressed and his hair was brushed. I was jealous that Jake could get through to Cole when I couldn't. _

"_Is there something you want to say to your mother, Cole?" Jake pushed, giving Cole a hard look. Cole looked at him and then at me. _

"_There are a lot of things I want to say to her." _

_He walked away.

* * *

_

"Mom? Are you awake?"

I opened my eyes and found myself looking up at Cole. He was standing beside the bed and he looked very tired. I had been awake for a while, but Jake was still sleeping, and I didn't want to wake him up by getting up. I'd waken him up three times in the night because every time I got up to pee he woke also. But if Cole was awake, it was time for Jake to be too. His arm was around my shoulders and his head was resting on top of mine. One of his legs was also on top of me. I gave him an exasperated look even though he couldn't see me. I looked up at Cole.

"Yes," I whispered, "Hold on,"

I shoved Jake's leg off me and sat up slowly. His head fell back on the pillow. I was stuck between Jake and the wall.

"This is as far as I can go." I sighed. Cole sat on the edge of the bed and Jake's leg twitched. Cole jumped.

"Jesus! You need to cut sugar out of his diet or he's gonna kick you to death."

Jake sighed in his sleep and rolled over more, which literally shoved me against the wall.

"Good idea," I responded. The wall was really cold against my cheek and arm. "So what did you need?"

Jake yawned and sleepily wrapped his arms around me. He yanked me back down beside him. Cole awkwardly looked away.

"Jake," I nudged him, "you gotta let go."

"I don't want to. I love—"

I pulled his arms off me to save my son further awkwardness. I struggled but managed to get out of the bed. I walked toward the door.

"Hey!" Jake exclaimed.

I smiled apologetically and blew him a kiss. He sighed. I followed Cole out of the bedroom.

The hallway was dark. I sighed and leaned against the wall and I was reminded of the memory of rebellious and difficult Cole. This Cole had none of the hatred in his face when he looked at me. I hugged him. He hugged me back and I let go of him.

"Are we still leaving for California today?" He asked.

"That's the plan." I could see he felt awkward and I wanted to know what he was getting at.

"Well…do you think maybe we could stay just one more day?" He ran a hand through his hair and looked uncharacteristically unconfident.

I thought it over quickly. "Sure, I'm sure one more day wouldn't hurt. Why do you ask?"

He exhaled. "Well…I wanted to maybe go out around town with Emily before we left. We both have never been here before and I think she'd like to see downtown."

I smiled. He was avoiding the word date, but I knew that's what he meant. He looked so insecure.

"That sounds like a good idea. You look a little worried, though. Is everything okay?" I prodded. He awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Yeah, everything's good. I just don't know if…I don't know. I just want it to be fun." He avoided my eyes. I smoothed his hair back from his forehead.

"You need a haircut." He laughed. I continued. "She'll love wherever you take her, Cole, because you were the one to take her there." I patted his cheek and he smiled.

"You're so cheesy, Mom." He complained.

"But so truthful at the same time."

"What are you truthful about?"

I spun around. Emily was exiting her bedroom. Her hair was pulled back but the curls were falling out. She was wearing a bright green nightgown that was rather short. Oh gosh. I turned to look at Cole. He smiled so brightly at her it was awkward to look at. He didn't seem awkward around her in just his pajama pants which partly worried me. But then again they slept in the same bed that time so I guess they'd be comfortable around each other in pajamas…

They greeted each other and I got the feeling that I was invisible to them now. I hid a smile. Emily stopped in front of the bathroom while she talked to Cole and I slipped back into the bedroom without either of them noticing.

The bed was empty. I heard the water running from the small bathroom that connected this room to the laundry room. I walked to the doorway and leaned against it. Jake was peering into the mirror intensely as he tried to shave. He was so interesting to watch when he shaved. He got very quiet and focused. He winced as he cut himself.

"Dammit!" He pouted and continued shaving. He was probably having a very tough time because he usually used his electric razor. I guessed it was still at that apartment in New York.

He cut himself two more times before he was finished. He washed his face and dabbed at the tiny cuts with tissue. I crossed the small space and hugged him from behind. I rested my head against his shoulder.

"Finally come to see me? You were standing there watching me for like twenty minutes."

"I didn't want to get near you when you had the razor. I was afraid you might accidently cut your eye or something."

"Ha, ha," he said sarcastically.

"My poor Jakey," I cooed. I stuck my hands up the front of the t-shirt he put on and rubbed his chest. "He had to use a regular razor just like most men. Poor, poor Jake."

He leaned his head against mine. "Don't mock my pain."

I leaned my head over to the side. His freshly shaved face looked younger. He looked like seventeen year old Jake and I suddenly really wanted to dye my hair brown.

"Do you think it would be okay if I got my hair dyed back to the normal color?" I asked him.

He stroked his fingers through my blonde hair.

"Didn't the doctor say a few years ago that it was okay as long as you kept the room well-ventilated and used the most natural dye?" I nodded against his shoulder. The debate about whether or not coloring your hair is harmful to unborn babies made me nervous. My doctors had always said it was okay but I still worried.

"It should be okay. You've done it before." There was a pause. "Oh…my…God…" he gasped.

My heart raced. My hands fell from him and I moved so I could see him. He was staring at himself in the mirror.

"What's wrong?" I panicked. He leaned forward.

"I…I…I have…a wrinkle!" He sounded like he was being strangled. He moved so close to the mirror his nose was pressed against it. "NO! NO! I can't have a WRINKLE! I'm just thirty-three! No! This can't be happening! I'm going to kill myself! My life is over! It all goes down from here! More wrinkles are going to pop up and destroy my gorgeous face!"

I sighed and gently grabbed his shoulders. I pulled him back. I took his face in my hands and peered closely. I didn't see anything that resembled a wrinkle.

"I don't see anything."

He pulled his face away. He looked back at the mirror, his mouth turned down in a deep frown. He jabbed his finger at his forehead.

"There!" He called dramatically. I took his face back in my hands. I peered at the spot. I saw a small worry line.

I let go of his face and rummaged through the drawers while he peered at his "wrinkle". I pulled a handheld mirror out and took his hand.

"Come on."

I pulled him into the bedroom. I set the mirror on the bed and patted it once. He sat down and I sat behind him.

"Lay down," I ordered. He listened to me and laid down. I rested his head in my lap. He looked up at me, his eyes filled with horror.

"Close your eyes." He shut them. I softly trailed my finger down the length of his nose. I caressed my fingers down his smooth cheeks and traced his jaw line. I outlined his lips and stroked his forehead. His face relaxed and his "wrinkle" disappeared. I held his face between my hands against and leaned down (as best as I could) and kissed the bridge of his nose.

"There." I grabbed the mirror and held it up for him. He opened his eyes and stared at his reflection. "All gone."

He gaped. He ran his hand over his wrinkle-free forehead. "It's gone!" He sat up and kissed me full on the mouth.

"Thank you! You saved my beautiful face! How did you do that?!"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"It was just a line from having your face tense." I explained. He looked back at his reflection.

"I missed you, hot stuff."

"Please tell me you aren't talking to your reflection."

"Okay. I'm not talking to my reflection."

He peered at himself for a moment longer. His eyes widened. He looked closer.

"Oh my God!! Is that a gray hair?! I'm only thirty-three! No! This can't be happening! I'm going to—"

I grabbed the mirror from him and set it on the floor.

"You do not have a gray hair. Stop being so paranoid."

He relaxed his shoulders.

"Do you promise I don't have a gray hair?"

I smiled. "I swear."

He stretched out beside me and pulled his shirt up. He set his hands on his abs.

"At least I know I'll always have a sexy body."

"You are _so _con—"

"Sexy? I know I am." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pressed his lips to my cheek. "I told you we would always be the sexiest couple. No one holds a candle to me or you." He kissed me again before patting his stomach. "I'm hungry."

"Let's go have breakfast."

He helped me up and we left the bedroom. The kitchen was empty. Jake and I made breakfast and by the time we were done, Emily and Cole came into the room. Both of them had wet hair and were in normal clothes. Jake and I exchanged glances. Um…did they…shower together? Okay, that's not appropriate at all…

"Cole?" He looked up. I motioned him over to Jake and I. He walked over.

"Where were you?" I asked.

He looked confused.

"I took a shower."

Jake narrowed his eyes. "With Emily?"

He flushed bright red. "No! Alone! God, Mom and Dad! I love how much trust you have!"

"Sorry, sorry!" I exclaimed. "I just saw you two coming down at the same time and you both have wet hair."

He probably thought we didn't trust him because of Lila, but the truth was, even if we wouldn't have known he was sexually active I wouldn't have trusted him. He's his father's son after all.

He seemed to relax. He glared. "So if I see you two with wet hair I should just automatically assume you showered together?" He seemed to regret the words as soon as he shot them at us.

Jake shrugged. "Well…we probably did."

Cue awkward silence.

Cole grimaced. "We never had this conversation." He turned around and walked away.

"'Well we probably did'? What was that?!" I demanded.

"What?! Did you want me to lie?" He asked.

"NO TOUCHY!"

I jumped and turned to see Oliver walking into the living room. He really needed to control his outbursts. Emily scooted away from Cole. They had been sitting beside each other on the couch.

Oliver seemed satisfied. He smiled and inhaled deeply.

"Mmmm…French toast. I love you, Miley." He looked at the food with a loving expression.

"Jake helped make it." I told him.

"I love you, Jake." Oliver sighed dreamily.

"Sorry, but I think I'm a little out of your league." Jake ran a hand through his hair and over his recently shaven face.

Oliver only had eyes for his breakfast. He piled his plate and sat down beside me. He dug in like a ravaged animal. He made almost sexual sounds as he ate and it was very strange and Oliverish.

I didn't think they were _that_ good, personally. But Oliver is Oliver.

"Apparently our French toast is orgasmic." Jake snorted.

Once Oliver was full, he took to keeping his daughter innocent forever. He sat between Cole and Emily on the couch and made a point of putting his arm around her shoulders in a very protective manner.

"My little girl," He cooed. Emily rested her head on his shoulder but gave Cole a look.

"Are you two going to eat breakfast?" If Emily said no I was going to force her to. I know ballerinas are supposed to be thin but she worried me sometimes.

Cole climbed out of the chair and sat down in the seat Oliver sat in.

"Oliver set high expectations for the French toast. I hope they live up to it." He joked. Oliver sniffed.

"They were good."

"We heard. No, really, we did."

Oliver glared.

I put a plate in front of Cole. He took a bite and chewed it thoughtfully.

"Nope, that was a letdown. Those were some interesting sounds for French toast that isn't even that good, Oliver. I've had kisses that taste better than that and I'm fifteen."

Jake burst into laughter and then covered it with fake coughing.

"Cole," I scolded. Oliver was being an ass, but he still was an adult. Not to mention I don't want to hear about the taste of kisses my son had experienced.

Oliver's glare held what actually resembled hate.

"You're also a little punk who plays girls."

"Daddy!" Emily exclaimed angrily.

Cole's smile vanished. "I don't play girls. Just because I could get any girl I wanted doesn't mean I'm a player."

"We are so misunderstood," Jake sighed quietly. I flicked his arm.

"Well you can't have my daughter." Oliver's lower lip looked like it was trembling but maybe I just imagined it.

"I'm not taking her from you, Oliver." Cole's voice seemed to soften and I felt proud of him. "She's your daughter. She'll always be. But I love her." He looked away from all of us in embarrassment and his face flushed.

"Awww," I whispered under my breath. I grabbed Jake's hand. "He's such a good little man!"

Jake puffed out his chest. "What did you expect? He grew up seeing me as an example!"

I squeezed his hand. "Don't worry—I don't think you did any lasting damage." I glanced at his face and laughed. "Kidding."

"I loved her first though," Oliver whined.

"And you're way too protective. Ever since her mother left you've been terrified of being alone so you cling to Emily in hopes she'll never leave you. But it isn't happening. She's going to leave sooner or later and either she'll leave wanting to come back to see you or she'll leave bitter and angry. You have some problems, Oliver, but I think—"

Oliver suddenly jumped to his feet.

"BITCH YOU DON'T KNOW MY LIFE!" He screamed.

Emily laughed and then covered her mouth with her hand. She choked back laughter.

"God, Dad, you are so lame. What did I tell you about watching those gangster movies?"

"…bitch is an insult you say to a girl." Cole raised an eyebrow.

"So?! Besides, people thought you were going to be gay when you were a baby." Oliver defended.

"People still think you're gay."

I sighed and grabbed the table. I pulled myself into a standing position.

"Okay, we all need to have a talk. Oliver, sit your ass down." I glared. Oliver quickly sat down. I looked at both their defiant faces and decided to start with Cole.

"Cole, honey, I know he pisses you off with his extreme irrational and erratic behavior—"

"WHAT'D YOU CALL ME BITCH?!"

"Daddy, calm down! And stop talking like that!"

"Sorry, baby, I was channeling my inner rebel." Oliver explained.

"Oh my God."

I shook my head and continued.

"Anyway, I know he's a little extreme, but indirectly insulting his sexual experience and sexual orientation isn't polite, especially because you're only fifteen. Fathers are always overprotective of their daughters. Treat Oliver like an adult and try to handle his antics."

"But—"

"Now, Oliver, Oliver, Oliver…where do I even start? First of all, stop talking like you're a badass. You work in advertisement; you don't sell drugs on the streets—"

"I write and record raps!" He argued.

"For commercials. Shush. Second, you need to calm down and stop being rude to my son. I understand you love Emily but you're a little insane." He opened his mouth but I cut him off, "And yes, Oliver, this bitch _does_ know your life. Treat my son right and he'll treat you right. To get respect you have to give it. He isn't going to intentionally hurt Emily. You heard him, he loves her. So just calm down, okay? I love you, you're one of my best friends and always will be, but this is ridiculous."

Oliver looked unhappy. I felt bad for yelling at him but he really is crazy sometimes.

"So, with that said, Emily and I are going out for lunch and we're going to chill around town for a while." Cole quickly said. Emily jumped up and ran over to him before Oliver could grab her.

"Emily has to eat breakfast first." I ordered.

"I don't want—"

"You need to. Sit."

She frowned and sat down. She looked at Oliver.

"Where's Claire?"

"Sleeping like a log." He replied.

Emily looked back at me. "Claire and I worked out a diet. You can talk about it with her. I want to go out with Cole."

She begged me with her eyes.

"What kind of diet is this?" I asked suspiciously.

"A kind that will get me back the way I should be so I don't get in trouble when I go back to school." She sighed.

I didn't like the sound of this. I heard all about ballerinas who were bulimic and anorexic and that wasn't going to happen to Emily. She was practically my daughter.

"I don't care what the people at your school say. You need to eat breakfast."

"I'll have lunch! I'm not going to hurt myself, Miley. I'm taking care of my body for my dancing. You wouldn't tell Cole to cut his hands off would you?"

I looked at Oliver. He didn't seem concerned. I guess if the epitome of over-protectiveness wasn't concerned there isn't a reason to be.

"Fine." I looked at Cole. "But you make sure she eats."

I'd never noticed a problem with her eating habits before, but then again I hadn't lived with her before.

Jake started to say something to me but stopped abruptly.

"What?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

I measured his expression and heard the words he'd stopped before they were spoken. _That's kind of hypocritical coming from someone who wouldn't eat anything for months. _

He looked guiltily away.

"It's different." I whispered softly to him. He nodded quickly.

"I know. It's very different."

We looked up from our little bubble. Claire had finally joined us. I was beginning to notice that she slept very late.

She pulled out of the hug she'd given Oliver and walked over to Emily. She said something to her and Emily frowned.

"Now? But I'm going somewhere."

I don't think anyone else noticed it, but Cole touched her hand for a moment and a small smile lit her face.

"If you want to be up to par with the girls this coming school year we really need to work. You were just bugging me about this yesterday and now you act like you don't want to?" Claire raised an eyebrow. Oliver shoved a plate in her hands.

"You have to try the French toast! It's explosive! And that's complete bull, baby, Emily could dance college dancers off the stage and we both know it."

"Still, she needs to practice just like everybody else. And I'll try it later. Thanks, babe."

She set the plate on the table and waited for Emily's response. Emily bit her lip and looked at Cole.

"Could we go out for dinner instead of lunch?"

He smiled. "Yeah, sure, that's fine.

He really seemed okay with it and that satisfied Emily. She helped Claire move the table and couch in the living room so they could practice there. Cole and Oliver sat on the floor to watch until Claire suddenly freaked out. She stood up from where she had been stretching with Emily.

"Out! Out! Out! You're all ruining my artistic concentration! I need peace! OUT!"

Cole and Oliver jumped up in fright. Cole retreated down the hall and Oliver sulked outside. I rolled my eyes at the mentality of artists but got myself up as quickly as possible. It would be lying to say I'd never wigged out on somebody for the sake of music before. I actually think I've threatened Jake's life hundreds of times for it...

Jake touched my arm at almost the exact moments I felt the babies start to wake up.

"Can I talk to you about something?" He asked.

His eyes were impossible to read and I felt nervous. I nodded and he helped me to my feet. I followed him down the hall, shooting one last look at Emily and Claire stretching on the carpet and Oliver watching Emily with a smile from the window.

* * *

**Cole's POV: **

By the way my hair was refusing to stay calm, my mother was right. I probably did need a haircut. I stared at my reflection for a few moments before deciding it was going to be cut right now. I had a steady hand; I could cut my own hair. It can't be that hard right? A few snips here and a few snips there and ta-da! No more unruly hair!

I knew there were some good scissors in the tiny bathroom in the bedroom my dad was staying in, so I started to the room. He'd cut his own hair a few weeks after we came to this house. The scissors he'd bought for the job were most likely still in that first drawer. That was also the bathroom he taught me to shave in, which turned out to be a lot easier than I expected. Although from my Dad's patched job this morning, it looks like _I_ need to teach _him_ how.

I walked out of the hallway bathroom and into the room my parents were staying in. It was really cold and I almost stepped on a handheld mirror that was lying on the floor. I tripped as I tried to avoid it and I grabbed hold of the bathroom door to steady me. _Whew, good save, Ryan, _I thought, _you really don't need seven years of bad luck right now._

I kicked the mirror away under the bed so my mom wouldn't step on it. God knows she didn't need bad luck with the babies so close to being born. When are they going to be born anyway? Surely she only has like a few weeks left.

Once the potential catastrophe was hidden, I entered the bathroom. There were clothes all on the floor and I scoffed. How dare they call _me _messy! Toothpaste and hair products littered the counters. I grabbed some cologne and sniffed it. Not bad. I'm sure it wouldn't matter if I bored some for the da…I mean, the day out on the town. If I avoided the word date it somehow made this seem a lot less scary. I applied the cologne. The drawer with the scissors in it was open and pair of my dad's boxers were hanging on it. I prayed they were clean and threw them on the pile of clothes. Gross.

The drawer was empty except for the scissors, some more deodorant, and some more razors. I grabbed the scissors and shut the drawer. The open door was taking up room in the already cramped area so I closed the door until it was just cracked a little. Should I wet my hair first? The professionals did.

I had just touched the facet when voices paused my action.

"What is it?"

My mom's voice sounded really nervous and my stomach clenched with dread. Oh God, what had happened now? I heard their bedroom door being shut. I tried to make myself move so I could leave the bathroom before they started talking and thought I was eavesdropping, but something in her voice made me hesitant about interrupting the conversation. But it was even worse to sit here and eavesdrop. You know what they say; eavesdroppers usually hear something they don't want to know. Not to mention how embarrassing would it be if I was caught in their bathroom listening to a private conversation.

"Come here," My dad's voice did that thing where he was trying to be comforting but he was just as nervous himself. I heard the bed creak and through the crack they both were lying on it. Okay, this is really awkward. What if they start…doing things? I definitely don't want to be stuck in here. Time to go!

"Jake? Why are you looking at me like that?" Her tone stopped me again. Her voice was so high it broke in panic. God dammit. I moved away from the crack in the door and sat on the toilet. Great. I knew I couldn't walk out now. Why couldn't I have just left my hair? Tons of guys that are almost as good looking as me manage to pull off the long hair. I could have just left it. Or I could have asked my mom to cut it. But no, I just _had _to come in here. I'm such an idiot.

There was a long gap of silence in which I imagined they had both turned to stone. There was the much less attractive idea that they were kissing or something of that gross nature but I much preferred the first idea. As far as I was concerned, they have only had sex four times. That's all I have to believe. Four pregnancies, four times. The end. No questions asked. In fact, I could even get by with saying twice! Isabella and Joy could have been in vitro fertilization for all I know. Ignorance is bliss no matter what anyone says.

And no, that is not denial. It's…selective thinking.

_Finally_, someone said something. Thank you, role model. Thank you.

"Don't cry," My dad whispered so softly I could barely hear it and the room was tiny. "You don't even know what I'm going to say."

She sniffed and I felt angry at my dad. Why does he have to go and tell her something stupid to make her sad? She is so happy. Why would he want to upset her again? There are times when I think he knows everything in the world and others when I think he's a dumbass.

"I know that look, though." Her voice was louder than his. And sure enough, I could hear the strangled tone that suggested tears. "I know you and I know that look." She repeated. "It always means something terrible."

And they turned to stone again. I waited for what felt like five minutes and no noise was heard. Did they leave?! I leaned forward and peeked through the gap. Okay, no. He's just taking his time kissing all over her when his son is about to suffocate in this tiny bathroom and choke on his own vomit. Nice. Especially since he was the genius to make her cry in the first place.

They finally came back alive and I was getting really annoyed.

"If," My dad started. I waited but he didn't continue. If he's is all over her again I swear I'm going to go pour cold water on his head. This is ridiculous. If he ends up saying his secret is something stupid like he loves to roller disco I'm going to kick him in the kneecap.

He breathed deeply. "If the same thing happens to these babies—"

My mom made a strangled sound that screamed "_STOP!"_. "Jake, please, I don't—"

"No." His voice hardened and I raised my eyebrows. Why is he acting like such a jerk? This is lame. He's not supposed to be a jerk. But maybe I just don't understand the situation. "I know it hurts but, Miley, I need you to promise me something and I need to say this."

"Anything." She said immediately. I couldn't imagine ever being able to do that. To promise someone something without asking any questions first. I don't even know if I could trust Emily enough to do that. I think I'm too suspicious. Or maybe she's too trusting. Or maybe it's stupid of me to be comparing my and Emily's relationship to my parent's.

"If something happens to these babies, I need you to promise me you won't kill yourself." I had never heard someone ask something with so much longing in their voice and, somehow, that one sentence he uttered made me feel more awkward than if I would have walked in on them doing stuff. I was ashamed to be listening to this private conversation. But at the same time I couldn't stop listening just like people can't avoid staring at wrecks when they pass them on the highway. My mother was a suicide risk? I had always had a dark fear about that but I never thought she would do that to me. Would she?

I could hear the sobbing now and it scared me. A childish part of me thought that if mommy was scared I should be too.

"Jake…" She broke off with another sob and fear settled like a vulture on my shoulder. The ugly bird seemed to be pecking at my stomach and nose and eyes. Its hideous yellow eyes eyed my face and no matter how hard I shook my shoulders and tried to give myself a pep talk it didn't work. I suddenly wanted to smell Emily's hair.

"Promise me," His voice rose in hysterics. "Please, just swear to me. Please, Miley. Please." There was a pause. "_Please. _Seeing you happy again makes me so happy. Don't take it away again. I don't think I could bear to see you as you were all those years ago. I don't think Cole could handle losing his mother all over again. Please."

The stupid bird brought his family. They settled on every part of me and seemed to be weighing me down. The silence from my mother made my eyes and nose prick and I yelled at myself in my mind for being such a sensitive baby. But she was my mom. I reminded myself that Emily didn't have a mom and she didn't cry all the time, but she never really had one to begin with. If her mother died it wouldn't affect her at all. I loved my mother.

"I don't know what to tell you, Jake." Tears were heavy in her voice. "You want me to promise I won't be heartbroken if something happens to them? I can't do that. I can't. I will be heartbroken." Her sob sounded muffled and I guessed she was hiding her face in his shoulder or chest, something she had a habit of doing. I guess she thought if she stopped seeing the world all the bad things would just disappear. "It would probably be just as bad as last time, if not worse. I don't want them to die, Jake. I want them to grow up and be able to know you and Cole. I want to know them. I don't want…why do we have to talk about this?" Her voice rose with sudden anger. "I don't want to talk about this! I don't want to be sad anymore! I want to be happy."

How was it that that one man had ruined their lives so easily? I promised myself that right then no man would ever tear apart me or my family. Never.

"And I want you. Forever." My dad begged. All this sadness was upsetting me. It's so hard to watch the people you've know all your life in so much pain. So hard. My mom started crying again and I started thinking about what it would be like if she did kill herself and then I was crying like a complete douche. I really need to toughen up. I blame my art.

My phone suddenly went off and I quickly grabbed it and pressed the buttons to shut it up. Unfortunately, it was too late. Busted. I wiped my eyes and sniffed. I ignored the footsteps coming toward the bathroom. I read the text that was from Caitlyn. **But **_**I**_** love you. **

I guess Emily had told her what had happened. Caitlyn didn't love me. If she had she wouldn't have thrown herself at me like she did and she wouldn't have treated Emily so badly. She didn't even know me. All our phone conversations couldn't have shown her even a sliver of me. Emily was the only one who knew me.

I texted her back and voiced my thoughts. I set my phone on the counter and suddenly my mom's arms were around my shoulders. I often forgot how safe I felt in my parent's arms after shunning and pushing them away for so many years. Every time they hugged me I felt like a small child.

"I'm sorry, Cole," She cried, "I never…Oh my God I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to hear all that. I'm sorry."

She held tight as if she never intended to let go. I remembered when it used to annoy me when I was younger. She would give me the longest hugs and all I wanted was to run and play with my friends.

"You won't do it, right?" I asked. "You won't leave all of us, will you?"

She pulled back and her eyes were red. She wiped at them and shook her head slowly.

"No, I won't. I won't. I promise." She looked at my dad who was standing in the doorway. He looked mortified and scared shitless. "I promise." She repeated, softly.

He let out nervous laughter and walked over to us. He mused my hair and rested a hand on her back.

"Care to share why you were hiding in the bathroom?" He asked casually. I blushed. Great. Just what I was afraid of. I should have left the moment I heard them come in the room. But if I would have, would my mother ever have promised what she did?

"I wasn't spying, I promise!" I exclaimed. I grabbed the scissors. "I was going to cut my hair but then you two came in and you sounded so morbid that I was afraid to interrupt…"

"I wouldn't make a habit of that, if I were you. You know what they say—eavesdroppers always—"

I cut him off and continued the saying, "Hear something they didn't want to know. Yeah, I know, Dad. I'm sorry. If it makes you feel better I promise I'm more embarrassed about it than you are."

"Well I bet you are!" Dad snorted.

Mom gently took the scissors from my hands.

"Do you want me to cut it?"

I eyed her hands that were still shaking from her tears and swiftly shook my head. "No, that's okay." I never wanted to see another pair of scissors in my life. Well, maybe that's a little melodramatic. I just lost all desire to cut my hair. I wanted to get the hell out of there.

"I think I'm going to go and chill until time to go," I stood up and Mom backed up to give me room. She took up like three times the space she used to.

"Okay, honey." She patted my arm and I quickly walked of the room. I exhaled once I was in the hallway.

I discovered something new today. Kicking mirrors underneath beds also brings bad luck. Although hopefully only twenty minutes of it.

* * *

**MILEY'S POV:**

I leaned against the counter. My emotional outburst made me sleepy. I wrapped my arms around Jake and kissed his cheek, because he looked upset with himself.

"What's wrong?" I whispered.

"I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. You were so happy and I just ruined it."

But it had to be done sometime, and now was as bad as any other time would be. His words had scared me to tears, yes, but I was going to be scared no matter what I supposed. Terrified. Love does that to you.

"It had to be said." I just wanted to be off the subject. I didn't want to think about the state of my heart if they died; I wanted to think about their first day of preschool or first words.

Jake sighed and jumped in alarm as something suddenly beeped. I glanced at Cole's cell phone that he had left on the counter. I grabbed it.

"How'd that boy leave his phone? It was right there." I shook my head.

"Who knows? Read it." Jake eyed the phone.

I frowned. "No! I'm not going to read his text message! That's such an invasion of privacy!"

"He left it in _our _bathroom…he listened to _our _private conversation…" Jake reminded me.

I frowned. "But don't you think what he heard is something he should have known about anyway?"

He raised an eyebrow. "No! He was crying when we came in here! No child should ever have to hear that their mother was suicidal or might be in the future."

I guessed he was right about that, but it was still partly Cole's business. I couldn't read his text message. That was just wrong.

"Just see who it's from." Jake suggested. I decided that wouldn't be too bad. I flipped it open and glanced at the screen. I tried to not feel annoyed at the name. I showed Jake the screen.

"We really better read that then." He sounded dead serious now. "She went with her mother to try and save that bastard, right? We need to know if he's alive or not for all our safety."

That I agreed with. I pressed the button that allowed us to view the message. I raised my eyebrows at what it said. Guilt sunk into every pore. It had nothing to do with Luke. I knew I shouldn't have read it.

"It says 'You were made for me'…" I read off to Jake.

Jake snorted. "He most certainly was not made for her and I would know! _I _made him! And I can promise you that when I was I wasn't thinking that I was going to make a son that would be perfect for that bastard's crazy ass daughter!"

I laughed and patted his hand. He actually looked offended, as if someone was trying to take credit for his work.

"Who does she think she _is_?! If she thinks we'd make a child just for her she has some ego issues. Hmph."

That really made me laugh. He was so not the person to talk about someone having ego issues.

"That child needs a reality check. Our son is too good for her. You know what? I bet she's a whore. I really do, and not just because I wish her father and mother would get decapitated by an elevator. I bet she was all over poor Cole while we were gone. He had to fight not only her but also himself the whole time! Oh that little egotistical kid made his life hell! How—"

"You need to calm down. You're taking this way too personally. Cole managed just fine and she's gone. Let her think she's meant for Cole. We all know him and Emily were always meant to be together."

"Everyone except Oliver you mean."

"Right."

Jake grabbed the phone. He started to reply.

"What are you doing?!" I snatched the phone from him. "No way mister!"

He frowned. "I was just going to let her know this was one of the people who made him and he wasn't made for her."

"Bad Jake. No texting people from Cole's phone." I scolded. I left the bathroom with the phone in hand to bring it to Cole before Jake attacked that girl for almost having an ego larger than his.

I found Cole in his room. He was lying on his bed listening to Jake's iPod. I wondered where his was.

He pulled the earphones out.

"Mom, do you know what kind of music dad has on here?!" He exclaimed. Oh boy. Do I play innocent or admit that I know? Admit.

"Yes I do. He has an eclectic taste in music." I sat on the edge of his bed.

"Eclectic? This is rap music from when you were growing up too! I never thought the music had gotten more censored over the years but apparently it has."

Cole set the iPod beside him and I could only imagine what songs Jake had on there. He tended to stray toward hard rock and then the rap songs about sex or fame. I always found it kind of funny that with his music taste he married Hannah Montana.

I handed Cole his phone.

"Your dad made me read the message. We thought it would be about Luke." I told on myself. He gave me a disapproving look and then read the message I'd read. He sighed.

"She thinks highly of herself."

I laughed. "You should have heard your dad's rant when he read it. It angered him."

"Why?" Cole sat the phone beside the iPod and I noted that he didn't text her back.

"Apparently he was insulted she thought we made you with her in mind. I think he feels threatened. He never likes when someone has an ego almost as large as his."

We both laughed and the babies kicked happily. They were still during the conversation earlier, most likely due to the stress. They liked Cole's laughter though.

"Where are you taking Emily?"

He shrugged.

"I was thinking dinner." He looked out the window. I suddenly felt uneasy about them going out alone.

"Why don't you two have a picnic down by the lake? I think Emily would appreciate that more than a fancy restaurant." She probably would, so at least I wasn't lying. He turned the idea over in his mind and then nodded slowly.

"Yeah, she would like that. Do you…well…if it's not too much trouble, could you help me make food to bring?"

I smiled and realized that there was nothing I would like more.

"Of course. If we make sandwiches we don't have to start making it all until later." He nodded. I leaned over him and grabbed the iPod. I scrolled through the rap songs until I found the one I wanted. I pressed play and he put the earphones back in.

"That was my favorite."

He laughed louder than I'd heard in a while.

"Mom! You rebel! Somehow I pictured you listening to Kelly Clarkson when you were my age."

"I may have sung good songs and I may have been a good role model but I'm not going to lie and say I didn't party hard." I smiled at the memories of so many years ago.

He grinned. "Party hard, eh? What are we talking? Alcohol? Drugs? Movie stars?"

"There's only ever been one movie star in my life. Alcohol once. No drugs. But a lot of music and dancing."

He shook his head in bewilderment. "I guess that's the life of the rich and famous."

I sighed loudly and leaned against the wall. "You have _no_ idea."

He got a thoughtful look on his face. "Most people _don't_ have any idea. They think fame and fortune will make them happy but actually, famous people are the most miserable of us all."

He was so smart. I smiled at him and smoothed his hair back from his face. "Well, it's just like what you said, right?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

I pulled my hand off his head and stood up.

"You know, all that glitters is not gold. Things are never as good as they seem from the outside."

He nodded and seemed in a different zone as I walked out. I leaned against the wall and thought about how gold was always found in the most dangerous places.


	40. Retrogression

**A/n: **sorry for the wait! Somehow updating is harder when I have more time on my hands haha. Sorry in advance for any mistakes in this chapter. I'm too impatient to wait for my betas to get home from school :D thank you all so much for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Oh! And a question someone asked last chapter is answered in this chapter :) I was going to wait but now's as good a time as any. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter. Reviews are cherished.

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**"That which is striking and beautiful is not always good, but that which is good is always beautiful." -- Ninon De L'Enclos.**

* * *

When she entered the room, she was suddenly gasping for breath as if she had been holding in her air for minutes on end. Freon was replaced by perfect oxygen as she inhaled deeply. She was so relieved that it triggered her old self. _Alyssa, _she gasped from the bottom of the cave she'd buried her in, _what has happened to you? This is not love…it is obsession! _

She shook her head as if to collapse the roof of that cave onto her old self. She collapsed into the seat beside his hospital bed. How small, how fragile, how young he looked! He almost looked like a child! What had that woman and her husband done to him? This isn't him. He is changed. Something is changed. It hurts even more that she cannot put her finger on it.

She looked up to locate their daughter. She stood at the door awkwardly, as if she wasn't sure what to feel. She wanted to grab her daughter by the shoulders and shake her and say _Forget the boy, Caitlyn! Forget him for good! It will never happen. Never. _

But what good would a mother be who only crushed their children's dreams? No good at all. No, she wouldn't say anything to her daughter. Nothing at all.

Their daughter crossed the room with a sudden brassiness that her mother had not expected. She stood on the other side of her father's bed and boldly took his hand in hers. Her mother watched tensely. The father's eyes opened weakly, so weakly, that she would have bet money that was the weakest he has ever been.

"Dad," the girl's voice was rushed, "I need to tell you something."

Her mother's head snapped up. She wasn't! She wouldn't! She couldn't! But she was.

The man inclined his head as if to hurry her along.

"I am in love with the son of the people you are trying to kill."

What a stupid child! A stupid, foolish child! She would be the death of him. Her mother wasn't sure what her daughter was aiming at. Did she assume her father would get on his knees, beg for forgiveness, and say he wouldn't touch a hair on the boy's head? That would not happen. It would never happen. Alyssa had known what she was getting into when she got involved with him. She had always known. She knew the night their daughter was created, she knew the next four years when he was just gone, absent from life as if he never existed, and she had known when he had came back. She was hesitant to allow him into their daughter's life. The daughter that shouldn't have existed, he had said frequently. And he was right. She was an accident born from a one night stand between two unlikely and equally incompatible people. But exist she did, and one thing he had never done was be a parent. Challenges for the foolhardy are poisoned alcohol for the alcoholics.

He made a terrible father. From the very beginning their daughter had wanted more of him than he could ever give. The moment they were introduced to each other their daughter loved him and Alyssa felt a small part of him must have loved her, too. Because he stayed. He _stayed. _All those years he made no effort to ever leave. He put up with the nightmares, the bed-wettings, the flu, the chicken pox, everything. He never struck her; he only scolded her in a voice so terrifying that the girl never even attempted to do whatever she was getting yelled at for again. He did what he could to make her better than him, except the one thing that would have. He didn't love her, just as his parents didn't love him.

He laughed quietly. Their daughter's fearless expression faltered and she let his hand drop, uncertain what he was feeling.

"Yes, that would happen, wouldn't it? My daughter would fall in love with a Ryan." He laughed more. "Maybe this karma business is true. Or maybe I am truly dead and this is the deepest circle of Hell!" His eyes widened and he looked around more thoroughly. He sighed. "No, I don't suppose I am dead, am I? Of course I am not. I wished for it, and I cannot ever be satisfied." She was alarmed. Since when has he wished for death?! But she also remembered he must have been in pain. Pain that would cause death to look comfortable. He looked his daughter in the eye. "What would you wish me to say?"

Caitlyn hid her hands behind her back but her mother spotted the shaking.

"I…I wish you would say that you are okay with it, and you will leave them alone. Because I…," she paused and studied his expression. She seemed to suck confidence from some unknown place. She stood taller and breathed deeply. "Because I am your daughter and if you care about me you will do that. If you hurt him or my future in-laws I will die from a broken heart. I am your daughter whether you like it or not and I am all you will ever have in this world."

The odd, dreamy quality to his exhausted eyes came back. He stared absently out the window.

"Yes, yes you are. More than I would have ever wished on a young girl who had so much potential. But, child, I am exhausted and I cannot take any of this anymore. All I ever wanted was to be clean in my mind and heart so I could invite you in, so you could be happy. If leaving them alone will make you happy, then I will do that. As long as him and his family make you happy, they will be alive. And I will wither away I fear…but rather would I wither than be responsible for hurting my child anymore than I already have! I used to be so independent, so brave and cruel and unfeeling, and now look at me! Suicidal for a child! I never would have assumed the day…I wouldn't have…I couldn't have ever…oh what a cruel curse children are! What a surprise strike…what a deadly disease…what a…" he struggled to inhale correctly, "...nuisance! It is taboo from the beginning…never create something that can take on a life of its own! Never give a part of yourself that will grow and become its own self! Never make something you know you can't keep from caring about…don't ever…I am…so…tired…"

The mother jumped up in alarm as his head slumped back on his pillow. Something was still not right with him. He was saying things he never would have, he was acting so different! She eyed the heart monitor, but he was still alive.

"Now look what you've done," She barked at Caitlyn. Caitlyn shrank back from the bed with the largest smile to ever grace the Earth. _What child smiles hearing their father is giving up on life, _she asked herself. An evil, selfish child. Luke's child. Her child.

After all, the strangest combinations more often than not create the most terrible and deadly results.

* * *

**MILEY'S POV: **

"Do you know what you're doing?"

Cole looked up from stove. He was intently reading the instructions while the macaroni and cheese was boiling over and most likely sticking to the bottom of the pot. He hesitated.

"Um…"

I put down the bottle of salad dressing and walked over to the stove. I took the spoon from him and gently blew on the pot. The foam reduced and I stirred the macaroni, prying the stuck pieces from the bottom of the pot. I handed him back the spoon. He was still bent over the box, and his hair was so long it was covering his eyes. Okay, something has to be done about that hair. I'll cut it after we finished cooking.

"Just keep stirring it and when the timer goes off drain it in the colander. Then pour it into that bowl and stir the sauce in until it's nice and creamy."

He blinked at me, his face painted in confusion. I smiled and reached for the dressing. I took the spoon from his hands and put the dressing in its place.

"Take that bottle and pour it over the salad."

His face brightened. "I can do _that_!"

He walked with determination over to the salad bowl and I finished making the macaroni and cheese for him. We were silent as we put lids and aluminum foil over the bowls and plates and set them into the duffel bag we were using as a picnic basket. Cole and Emily were leaving soon so I zipped the bag to keep the food as warm as possible. I walked over to the table and pulled a chair out, motioning for Cole to sit down. I went over to the drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors.

"It's time to say goodbye to all that hair." I stated firmly.

He eyed the scissors nervously as I walked closer. He leaned away from them.

"Do _you_ know what _you're_ doing?"

Did I? Kind of.

"A little." His eyes widened. I gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry; I won't destroy your hair."

He moved away for a second time as I tried to cut his hair.

"Promise?" He asked.

"I promise." I said solemnly. He leaned back slowly, his shoulders tense. He shut his eyes.

"Okay," he sounded like he was holding his breath, "do it."

I cut his hair carefully; trying my hardest to get it at the length he liked it best. When I finished it was a little past the tips of his ears. He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck.

"That feels so much better, you have no idea. Thanks, Mom."

He stood up and shook the hair off his clothes. He went upstairs to inspect his new haircut while I swept up the hair. I was just emptying the dustpan when Emily came down the stairs. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts and cute blouse. Her hair was loose and the curls were smooth. She looked so much like Oliver sometimes. She had his hair, his eyes, but her facial structure was a little different. I supposed she got that from Lydia. I don't even remember what she looked like after all these years.

She sat on the couch and I could tell she was having a hard time hiding her smile. Cole came down the stairs a few moments later. His shorter hair made him look older and it depressed me for a moment. Emily stood up and he stood beside her, an equally contagious smile covering his face.

Oliver sulked down the stairs next. He looked like a whiny child. He planted himself in front of them and took a deep breath.

"Okay, listen up and listen good because I'm only gonna say this once. Here are the rules: no touching, no kissing, no going anywhere except where I say you two can go, you have to be back inside by eleven and if you aren't I promise I will hunt you down, Cole. There. That's the rules." Cole rolled his eyes and Emily sighed. She pulled her purse onto her shoulder and Oliver hugged her tightly. From where I was standing, I saw him slip what looked suspiciously like a tape recorder into her purse.

"Bye, darling! Be safe! I love you so much!" He pulled back. I sighed and hugged Cole quickly.

"Come back before eleven, please. Don't talk to strangers. Don't pet strange dogs. Don't—"

"Who do you think you are, woman?! My mother?!" Cole joked. I smiled and pulled back.

"Psh, yeah right. Your _mother_?! That's the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard!" I hugged him again; worry settling over me once more. "Do as I say, son." I whispered.

He smiled reassuringly at me. "Yeah, yeah, _mother." _

I hugged Emily and carefully reached into her bag. I pulled the tape recorder out and retreated away from Emily, concealing it behind my back.

"Bye you two! Have fun!"

Cole gave me a suspicious look. He grabbed the duffel bag slowly, unsure whether or not to demand to know what I pulled out of her purse. He didn't move for a moment.

"Do you need something?" I asked him. He narrowed his eyes.

"I'll talk with you when I get home," He threatened. Then he sighed and shook his head in an almost exasperated way and walked outside with Emily.

I rounded on Oliver. I revealed the tape recorder.

"A tape recorder, Oliver?! Really? That's _so_ 1990s."

He seemed smug. "Well, it worked the other three times I used it. Now I just have to play back the tape..." He reached for the tape recorder. I hurriedly extracted the tape and dropped it on the floor. I stomped it to pieces.

"WHAT THE HELL?! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THAT!!" Oliver started toward me in anger.

"Calm down, Oliver. You wouldn't want to have to explain to the police why you hit a heavily pregnant woman, would you?"

He halted and raised his eyebrows in surprise. His voice softened. "I would never hurt you, Miley."

"Oh, I know." I kicked the remains of the tape. "But for a moment there you didn't look like yourself."

He sighed and sat on the couch. He buried his face in his hands.

"I know. I don't know what's happening to me. I tell myself I'm going to be reasonable about this but then when I get down here, and I see the way she looks at him…I turn into the Hulk. I can't help it. She's my baby, you know? I don't want her to be someone else's baby. I remember when she was born and she was so small that my hand was bigger than her head. I remember when she would crawl into my bed at night because she heard monsters in the closet. I remember her first Christmas! It all feels like yesterday, Miley. It really does. She's my life. She's my little girl. I don't want her to grow up." He stayed slumped over like he never wanted to move again. I sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"It's going to be okay, Oliver." But my voice was shaking too because I was remembering those days also. My little boy was almost a grown man.

"No it's not," He cried, "she's going to be graduating soon! She's going to leave and I'll lose her forever! She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love her too much to let her go. So many bad things happen to people out there, Miley. And this is going to sound so weird, but I keep thinking 'What if Miley's dad wouldn't have let her hang out with us that Fourth of July?'. And every time Emily goes somewhere I have to wonder if that's going to be her Fourth of July. If your dad would have just kept you home you would have been safe! You barely see him anymore! I don't want Emily to be hurt like you have been and I don't want her to leave me forever! I can't handle it! She will be the death of me!"

I stroked his hair and sighed.

"You can't hold her back from life, Oliver. The best things in life come from the biggest mistakes or regrets. Emily herself came from a mistake, right? What if your mom wouldn't have let you have anything to do with Lydia? Then you wouldn't even have Emily."

He was silent for a while.

"I just want her to be my little girl forever."

He sniffed and then suddenly he was crying into my shoulder. I sighed again and patted his head.

"Oh, Oliver."

There should be a warning label on this parenting thing. Warning: be prepared to love your child more than yourself. Be prepared to go insane. Be prepared to be succumbed to hysterical sobbing on your friend's shoulder.

I pressed a hand to my swollen belly. Worry dug its claws into my flesh. They had been awful still for a long time. My heart hammered and I pressed down harder. I waited. When nothing happened my hands began shaking and I felt nauseous. I gently moved Oliver's head on the couch cushion and dizzily stood up.

"I'm sorry, Oliver." I threw the apology over my shoulder as I half-hysterically walked toward the bedroom. A sob of fear tore at me and pressed over them so hard it hurt. I threw open the door and Jake looked up from the laptop. He quickly shut it and motioned me over. He opened his arms and I let myself fall into them.

"What's wrong?" He demanded.

I struggled to pull in air.

"I haven't felt them move for a while. I can't get them too."

He pulled back and pushed my shirt up. He pressed a warm palm to my stomach. He called their names softly and I almost threw up in relief when I felt one turn and another kick. My hands were still shaking as I tried to calm down. It probably hadn't been that long since they last kicked. Why am I so paranoid all of the sudden?

"Jake," He pulled me down beside him and I pressed my face into his neck. "I'm sorry. I'm just paranoid. I'm scared."

He rubbed my back and I fought with my tears.

"It's okay. I'm scared too. We have every reason to be scared."

I nodded and a sudden desire struck me. It was most likely pulled from memories that Oliver's tantrum made me remember. It was powerful all the same and I suddenly felt thirteen again.

I miss my daddy.

* * *

**COLE'S POV: **

Emily spread the blanket out over the thick grass. It was red and it looked beautiful against her hair and skin. Her pretty shirt was a bright orange and it looked perfect with her skin. Her jean shorts showed off her gorgeous legs that were arguably one of the prettiest things on her. I set the bag down in front of the blanket and I sat down beside her. I took her in my arms almost immediately and things felt right again. The food smelled good and I was really hungry, but the food could wait. She smelled so good and she was so beautiful.

"Hi." She smiled up at me. I smiled back and ran my fingers through her hair, something I always wanted to do when I saw her. It was soft and fragrant.

"How are you?" I asked. I hoped she felt as perfect as I felt.

She leaned up and pressed her smooth lips to my cheek. My heart swelled and I held her closer to me.

"Better than ever." She smiled and rested her head against my shoulder.

We watched the lake for a few moments. I reluctantly released her and grabbed the bag. My stomach was demanding.

I pulled the food out and she smiled.

"It looks delicious."

_So do you. _

I bit my tongue before I said the words aloud.

"I made half the macaroni and put the dressing on the salad! I wanted to make the sandwiches also but I figured I should probably let my mom do that since it was the main part of the meal."

She took a bite of the macaroni and chewed thoughtfully.

"You're more talented than I thought!" She joked. "This is good!"

I grinned. "Well, you know, I just worked some of my magic on it. No biggie."

She giggled. I ate some of my sandwich before my stomach massacred itself.

"Cole?" She asked hesitantly. I looked at her and she was just nervously staring at her plate. Worry squeezed my stomach and I wanted to kill whatever was making her uncomfortable.

"What is it?" I set down my sandwich and eyed her with concern. She looked up and met my eyes.

"What's going to happen when we go back to California?" She looked down at her plate again.

I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

She pushed her plate away and took a deep breath.

"Well, are things going to go right back to the way they were before? With you going out with the beautiful, popular girls and ignoring me?"

I felt like I'd just fallen off a cliff.

"No!" I automatically exclaimed. I backtracked. "Well, I will be going out with a beautiful, popular girl. But her name will be Emily Oken, and only if she says yes, of course." I paused. Her pretty eyes were still downcast and her thick eyelashes were touching her cheek. "I really am sorry about how I treated you. I was a complete dick."

She laughed softly. "Well, dick's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"No. I don't. I was terrible, I really was. Do you know I told my mom once that I wanted another mother? That was right after Bell died too. That is classic dick behavior."

She moved closer. She was so gorgeous that it was hard to not press her to the grass and kiss her.

"You're different now. I don't hold those years against you." She took my hand and I couldn't help myself. I pressed my lips to hers. I wound my arms around her small waist and pulled her against me. TEMPTATION ALERT! TEMPTATION ALERT! This was not good.

She kissed me back hesitantly, as if this whole kissing thing was very new to her. As soon as blood started rushing to places I pulled away (painfully). She kissed so well and tasted like everything good in the world mixed together. I could kiss her forever.

She was panting and I had to avoid thinking about when I looked down her shirt. Bad Cole. Bad. You're trying to reform to a good boy, kid! Keep your eyes on the goal!

"You're a great kisser." I pushed her hair back from her face and she blushed. I ate more of my sandwich.

"I just had my first kiss recently." She said suddenly. I felt jealously rise when I realized that, because I was being a dick, I hadn't gotten a chance to be her first kiss. I felt robbed.

"Who was it?" I asked casually, trying to hide the fact I was seriously considering hunting them down.

"You." She said honestly. It took me a second to understand. That night she kissed me to save our lives was her first kiss…ever? No way. She kissed like an expert! She really was innocent. That made me like her even more.

"But you kissed so well!" I sputtered. She blushed again.

"Thanks."

How could just her smile make my heart beat so fast? I am so whipped. It's pathetic.

She shifted awkwardly.

"Can I ask you something? It's kind of personal."

"Anything."

She smiled softly and then bit her lip.

"How many people have you…been with?" She avoided my eyes. I hesitated.

"You mean like…sex?"

She nodded.

I faltered. "You'll think of me differently."

She shook her head quickly. "No. It's your past. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I was just curious."

I looked out at the fading sun.

"Three." I finally admitted. She exhaled as if she'd been holding her breath.

"That's not quite as high as Lila always tried to make me believe." She laughed nervously.

I felt sick to my stomach. She thought I was a stupid player now. She thought all I wanted was sex. But I don't. I just want her. I don't care if I have to wait to make love with her for years and years. I just love her.

"I'm sorry, Em. I…I was a—"

"—dick, yeah you told me." She joked halfheartedly.

For all the happiness love brought, heartbreak brought twice as much.

"I'm not a bad person." I begged.

She looked at me in surprise. "I know! I'm not upset or disappointed in you. I'm…embarrassed. I'm so pathetic. I just had a first kiss and I'm older than you."

Relief was mending.

I smiled. "I think you're perfect." I said simply.

She leaned forward and stroked my face with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"You've always been perfect." I pulled her back into my arms because I needed her there to contain my heart and keep it from bursting out of my chest with happiness and love. "Caitlyn told me about what happened in your room." She whispered into my shoulder.

"I hope she told you the real version. She's been acting so delusional lately."

I laid down on the blanket, the food long forgotten, and she laid down beside me. She fit perfect against my side.

"She said she tried to get you to have sex with her but you said no."

Well, that's a point for Caitlyn. At least she knows the difference between reality and fantasy.

"That's the real version."

She yawned. "She's much prettier than me." She whispered. I wasn't sure what she was getting at.

"She is not." I argued. Emily lifted her head up and gave me a doubtful look.

"Have you seen her? She's like a Greek goddess. And I'm just me. I don't understand why you chose me over her."

"Because you are perfect. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Nobody's perfect, Cole. Gosh I shouldn't have to remind Hannah Montana's son of that!" She teased.

I poked her side and she giggled.

"You think you're just so clever, don't you?" I tickled her through the material of her shirt and she squirmed and laughed loudly. Her laughter made me happy. When she was gasping for breath I let my hands fall away and I kissed her forehead.

"If it means anything," I said suddenly, "you are the only person I've ever been in love with."

She smiled. "Good to know."

I felt content just lying there and I was about to fall asleep.

"Maybe we should get up before we fall asleep…" My tongue was heavy, "I think your dad might kill me if we fell asleep and he came searching for us only to find us sleeping together."

She paled. "Yes, I think he just might."

We climbed to our feet and walked toward the lake. She idly spun around on one foot as if it were the easiest thing in the world. She was even more beautiful when she danced and it was easily the sexiest thing I'd ever seen in my life. She seemed to get into it and she was spinning all around the open land. She pulled her leg straight up in the air and I didn't even know the human body could stretch like that. I couldn't help but remember what they said about performers. Apparently people who perform regularly on stage in front of crowds are fantastic in bed.

She stooped suddenly and turned bright red.

"Sorry. I just feel at ease here."

"Don't apologize. You're a beautiful dancer."

She shrugged and looked at her feet. "I do better with the proper shoes and costume on."

"Is that something I'll get to see one day?"

"I'll have a recital soon." She replied.

I couldn't wait until I could let all the people watching know that that gorgeous girl was mine.

She walked back to the blanket and laid down. I laid beside her and she rested her head on my arm. This was normally when we'd be getting to know each other, but Emily and I already knew everything about each other. We could just enjoy each other's company. I liked having her in my arms because it felt like she was there to stay forever.

The sun began to set. I sat up and pulled the lanterns out of the duffel bag. Oliver had wanted us in before dark but my dad, somehow, talked him into letting us stay out until eleven. I turned the lanterns on and set them around the blanket. I set an Off candle above our heads and lit it, hoping it would keep all the stupid bloodsuckers away. They tended to bite Emily a lot. But it wasn't surprising because if I were a mosquito she'd be the one I'd want to bite too.

The strange thought made me laugh out loud. Emily sat up, her hair a mess of dark curls, and smiled.

"What's funny?"

I laughed again and struggled to keep the smile off my face.

"Nothing, I just had a funny thought."

"Well what was it?" She pressed.

I shook my head. "It wasn't really funny; I don't know why I laughed."

I laid back down. She sighed and leaned back down.

"_Cooooooole_," She whined. She made my name sound like music somehow.

"_Emiiiiiily," I_ mocked. Then I blushed because my thoughts were being perverted again. But her name was very fun to almost-moan. And I'm sure it'd be even more fun if we were actually moaning each other's names. Just saying. I fail at this good boy thing. I just straight up _fail. _I'm a failure.

She turned on her side and laid halfway on top of me. Her chest pressed against mine and those bad boy thoughts happened again. Arg. I wrapped my arms around her back and she gave me these pathetic, giant, pleading eyes. My mind was a whole bunch of this: weiheiruhjkhtouqerhkghjdfg.

"Umm…" I stuttered.

She dropped her head and rested it against my chest. She felt so perfect on top of me that it was really causing problems down south, if you understand what I'm getting at.

Her breathing was soft and her hair smelled really good. I leaned my face down so I could rest it in her hair.

"But I wanna know," She said sleepily.

I kissed her head. She yawned and reached an arm up. She ran her fingers through my hair and then let her hand drop. I couldn't remember when someone running their fingers through my hair ever felt so good.

"One day," I promised her. The buzz of the creatures, the darkness, the candlelight, and Emily practically on top of me made this moment one of the best of my entire life. I rested my hands on the small of her back and I think we fell asleep at the same time.

* * *

**MILEY'S POV: **

I paced in front of the backdoor. I bumped into Oliver.

"You're in my pacing square!" I glared. He glared back.

"You're in _my _pacing square!" He drew an imaginary line with his hands. His square cut into _my _square. "See?!"

I took a few steps back and drew a new square with my hands.

"Fine, you greedy jerk, this is my _new _pacing square! Stay out of it!"

We huffed and returned to pacing and staring out into the darkness. He checked the clock.

"It's 10:59. Pray for Cole." His voice sounded evil at the end.

"I better pray for you because if you touch a hair on my son's head it's gonna be smack down time in this living room." I narrowed my eyes at him.

He stopped pacing. "I can't fight a pregnant woman!"

I shrugged. "Then you can just lay there."

He shot me a disdainful glance. I glanced at the clock. Where were they?! I had a terrible feeling again, one of those that made me jumpy and nauseous. I didn't want them outside in the dark, way out there by the lake. It was time for them to be here.

I paced faster and tried to breathe evenly.

"Oh my God what if they are having sex!" Oliver hyperventilated.

"That's the least of your worries! Do you know what kind of creatures live in the woods in the South?!" I exclaimed.

"Do you know how many sexually transmitted diseases there are?!" He countered. I stopped pacing.

"I beg your pardon! My son does not have sexually transmitted diseases you jerk!" Jackass. How rude. I'm offended.

"You better hope not." He pressed his face to the glass of the door and strained his eyes. "I don't see them!"

Claire sighed heavily and Jake muted the TV.

"Really, you two, calm down." She soothed.

Jake laughed and I turned and glared at him. "What?"

He laughed again and just shook his head. "You. You yell at Oliver about being over-protective but then completely freak out yourself."

"You can't tell me you aren't worried!"

"I'm not. Don't you remember being in love for the first time, Miley? I bet they hardly even remember what day it is, much less the time."

"OR THEY MIGHT BE HAVING SEX!" Oliver fell onto the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees. He shut his eyes and breathed heavily.

"What the hell, Oliver! They aren't having sex! Calm down! God!" I couldn't really talk though, because I was just as worried. The babies were uneasy and kept squirming as if they were very worried also. I rested a hand over them and Jake seemed to sense it.

"Tsk, tsk. You're worrying the babies, Miley. Relax."

"DON'T TELL ME TO RELAX! WHAT IF A COYOTE IS EATING THEM?!" I fell back on a chair and struggled into inhale. I wrapped both hands around my stomach. Oh why did I ever let him out of this house? Darkness plus southern woods equals danger.

Oliver's eyes widened. "And you call me psychotic."

"SHUT UP!"

Jake and Claire stood up.

"Okay, we're going to go find them." They decided.

"NO!" Oliver and I both screamed.

"No way you're going out there! I can't lose you too!" Oliver voiced my thoughts. Claire rolled her eyes and Jake sighed when he saw me nod in agreement to Oliver's words.

Oliver jumped in happiness suddenly. "HA! I never want to hear either of you saying I'm too protective! I have the same level of worrying as another parent for once!"

Jake shook his head. "No. Oliver, you have the same level of worrying as a woman who's almost eight months pregnant. There's a difference."

He was right. Pregnancy hormones were making me a little paranoid.

Oliver pouted. "You never let me have anything."

I stood up. "I'm going to find them."

This time Jake freaked out. He laughed loudly.

"Yeah, like I'm going to let my pregnant wife walk deep into the woods by herself. That's a good one."

"I won't be alone. Oliver's going with me."

"I am?" I shot him a look. "Oh! I mean yes! I am!"

Jake laughed again.

"He'd sacrifice you to save himself!"

Oliver scoffed. "I would _not_!"

"I'm going too." Jake stated.

"Whoa! I'm not staying in this creepy house by myself!" Claire yelled. "I'm coming too."

Oliver and I frowned.

"Fine." We decided.

Jake left for a moment and came back with four flashlights. We left the house and were walking quietly.

"We should stay silent," I whispered, "we don't want to tip the monsters off and let them know food is coming."

They all looked at me. Jake raised an eyebrow.

"Monsters?"

Oliver squeaked.

"M-m-m-monsters?!"

Claire hit his arm and rolled her eyes.

We made it halfway down before anyone said anything. Just as we entered the woods Oliver spoke.

"It's really dark." He whispered.

"Shhh!" We cried.

The walk through the woods was hard and frightening. I held onto Jake's arm and I felt terrified the whole time. The moon was eerily missing.

"Oh, wow! That's an awesome tree!"

"Shush!"

A root stuck out from the ground and almost tripped me. Jake steadied me and helped me climb over it. Dumb woods. Why'd we let them go to the lake, anyway? We should have told them to just go where we had the cookout. At least we could see them from the house and know they were okay.

"I love you guys." Oliver randomly said.

"Shut up, Oliver!" We all chorused. He fell silent again.

At last, the lake came into view. I hurried through the trees and an 'aw' slipped through my lips at the sight. Emily was asleep, with her head and upper body resting on Cole. He was asleep too and they looked so peaceful.

Oliver started forward. I grabbed his arm.

"Don't wake them up!"

He blinked at me. "Of course I'm going to wake them up! It's time to go inside!"

I frowned.

"But they are so peaceful."

He rolled his eyes and started forward again. Jake laughed at my side.

"Cole is so whipped." He laughed again.

I glared at him in the darkness. It was adorable, not something to make fun of!

"Well so are you! Shut up."

"Yes ma'am." He said quickly.

I laughed this time. I turned to him and wrapped my arms around him. I kissed his mouth.

"I'm just kidding. I'd never want you to shut up. I love you."

"I love how you're just kidding about the shut up part, and not the whipped part. I love you too."

Cole suddenly stomped up between us. He looked really grouchy.

"I love sleeping, but apparently that's a sin now." He glared at Oliver.

"Well you were sleeping with his daughter…" Jake trailed off.

Emily jogged up beside Cole and defiantly took his hand, shooting an annoyed glance at Oliver. I hid a smile and fell behind them so they could have some privacy.

I sighed happily. "They were just made for each other!"

"Oh not you too! Don't make me say this again! He was not—"

"Okay, okay, sorry!" I hastily said. "I forgot how offended you get by that saying."

"It's a dumb saying," he defended himself.

"Of course." I took his hand and rolled my eyes at a tree.

We made it safely into the house. Emily went to shower and Cole disappeared into his room. Oliver sat suspiciously in the hallway to make sure they both went into different bedrooms.

"I'll be so glad when they aren't living together." He muttered.

I sat on the couch with Jake. My back was starting to hurt and I didn't want to go any farther.

Cole suddenly came up to us, a strange expression on his face. He handed me his cell phone. It was a text message from Caitlyn.

**My dad approves. He says as long as we love each other, he will leave you and your family alone. **

I dropped the phone. Cole caught it before it hit the ground.

"He's…he's dead." I struggled out. I watched him die! I did! At least, I thought I did.

Jake suddenly held me so tightly to him it hurt. He didn't say anything, he just held me as if someone was trying to pull me away.

"Mom?"

I looked up and Cole had the oddest expression on his face. It was a mix of guilt, confusion, and fear.

"Don't worry, Coley. He won't bother you again." I tried to sound comforting but it was hard.

Cole shook his head.

"No, that isn't it…"

I reached out and took his hand.

"What is it?" I asked.

He looked up from the phone in his hand and met my eyes.

"I don't love her."

I looked back at the phone and understood.


	41. War

**A/n: **Fast update! I think my muse dislikes my betas because I never time the chapters right where I can send it to them. Blah. Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews last chapter!! Hope you enjoy this chapter

* * *

**"Must be exhausting to lose your own game." -- Evanescence, "Call Me When You're Sober". **

* * *

I was suddenly so tired. I smiled as widely as I could to try and soothe any fears Cole might have.

"Don't worry about that. That sounds nothing like something that vile man would say anyway. Just ignore it, everything will be fine." I worked myself into a standing position. I hugged Cole, lingering with my arms around him for just a moment longer than usual. I pulled away and smiled at him again. "You should probably head to bed, honey. Are you all packed up?"

He shut his phone uncertainly, as if he knew I was only composed on the outside. He glanced at Jake and back at me.

"I only have a few things I need to put into my bag." He finally answered. He continued. "Mom, I really think she's serious."

My smile slipped. I forced it back and tried to breathe evenly.

"Well, if she is, so what?" I kept my tone uninterested, so he would believe this was really no big deal at all. "That man has messed with this family so many times over the last few years, and every time we have all made it out alive. Why would this time be any different? We can handle anything." I squeezed his hand. "Now, make sure to check underneath the furniture. I don't want to have to turn around and come back because you forgot something."

I turned around. Jake stood up, his mouth in a straight line. His eyes said what I felt: Not this time.

Just then, Emily came into the living room. She had her pajamas on and her hair was wet. She took one look at Cole's face and walked over to him. She took his hand and Oliver made a sound of protest.

"Cole? What's happened?" She asked. He shot a look at us and I smiled reassuringly at him.

He smiled weakly at her. "Nothing. I'm gonna go to bed. I'll see you in the morning. Night." He turned to Jake and I. "Night."

"Goodnight, Cole." I whispered after him. He disappeared into his room. Emily stood in one spot, confusion overtaking her face.

"What's going on?" She asked us. Oliver stood up and wrapped an arm around her shoulders and I wondered if he remembered that time, so long ago, when Luke had hurt her.

"Everything's fine, Emmy. Want to watch a movie with me?"

She sat on the couch with him, and her worries seemed to disappear. I missed being so young that daddy's embrace felt invincible.

I looked back at Jake. I smiled at him, too. He seemed to see right through the façade.

I walked toward the bedroom before he could say anything that would make this situation feel real. I knew somewhere, maybe close or maybe far away, Luke's mind was filled with plans to ultimately take all of us down to his level. But right then all mine was filled with was thoughts of a hot bath and soft bed, and three words.

Not this time.

* * *

**COLE'S POV: **

I threw clothes into my suitcase. My eyes kept flickering to the cell phone. I didn't know whether to reply or just delete it. My mom put on quite the act, but I knew she didn't believe everything would be alright. I was torn between anger and fear, the former winning so far. I think somehow I knew their fight with that jackass would involve me someday. I think I always understood I'd play a large part in it.

I just never thought all our lives would rest on who I loved.

I sat on the edge of the bed. I rested my head in my hands. My thoughts were spinning and I felt high. I couldn't focus on anything or think clear enough to know what I should do. If I lied and told Emily I didn't love her, and tried to learn to love Caitlyn…well, maybe he'd keep his word. Maybe he'd leave us all alone. Didn't my parents deserve that? He'd been messing with them for years. They deserved freedom from him, and I could grant them that. He had threatened to kill them and the unborn babies (what kind of monster could kill babies?), not to mention he did something terrible to my mother. Of course neither of them told me what happened, but I wasn't an idiot. I knew he had been the one to beat her that day Moose died, but I'm pretty sure something else happened that no one wanted me to know. Yes, he had most likely raped her, but somehow he still had some sort of score to even. No telling what he would do next. I could stop him from doing anything else, though.

All I had to do was hurt the one person I wouldn't ever be able to.

I groaned in frustration. Why did life have to be so complicated? I don't think my mom would ever let me set myself up for a miserable future for her. But maybe she would for my dad. It would be so easy. All I would have to do is remind her what he said to her yesterday. That he couldn't take seeing her hurt. And then maybe I could convince her I wouldn't be that unhappy. Then I just had to figure out how to tell Emily what I had decided and then start the role of a boy in love with a monster. It would be a lifelong role that would most like tire me beyond comprehension. But it sounded so _easy _compared to the alternative. Too bad the easiest thing isn't always the right one.

Or I could tell Caitlyn the only girl I love is Emily. Then that man—oops, sorry, I mean that _monster—_will come kill us all. The anger of me hurting his daughter will add onto the anger he already had toward this family. He will make us suffer. And all this for what? My happiness?

I finished packing. I even checked under the furniture, but of course nothing was under there. I set my bag on the floor and laid down on top of the bed. This was too stressful and way too much for me to have to decide. I'm not strong enough for this. I'm a wimp.

I pulled the blankets on me and tried to figure out what kind of person it would make me if I choose my happiness over the lives of my family. I fell asleep soon after starting this line of thinking. It was too confusing.

I woke up what felt like a few minutes later. The first thing I recognized was my starving stomach. Arg. Need. Food. Need. Food.

I pushed the blankets off me and hurried toward the door. I opened it quietly, which was kind of pointless because a moment later my stomach growled loudly enough to wake the dead.

"Shut up." I hit it with my fist.

I rummaged through the refrigerator. I realized my luck was turning around when I found some steak. Mmm. Food. I do love food.

I heated up the steak in the microwave, feeling a lot happier than I was before. The steak smelled so good. God I'm starving! I opened the microwave door and pulled the plate out. I grabbed a fork and knife and some sauce and went to the recliner. I could probably watch TV as long as I kept the volume low. I glanced at the cable box and my eyebrows rose. Four AM? It felt like midnight.

I reclined the chair and set the steak on the arm. I turned it on an old movie and ate. The steak was even better than I imagined. If the Emily thing doesn't work out, I'd definitely consider marrying food. I'd probably consider the food over Caitlyn…she was demented.

Sudden raised voices made me jump. Jesus! Who is up this early and already screaming! But of course I wasn't surprised when I recognized the voices. _Don't eavesdrop again, _I warned myself. I shook my head. No eavesdropping for me. Nope.

But the voices got louder. I sighed and turned the volume up. When my food was gone and I heard my name mentioned, I decided it was time to go see what was going on. No eavesdropping though. I walked quietly down the hall and stood outside the bedroom.

"—Miley!"

Um, anger much? Dad hadn't been angry in so long I almost forgot how scary he was when he was angry. I was glad I wasn't the one he was angry at…but why was he mad at mom? That is unusual.

"NO! Just stop, Jake! Okay? Just stop! God!" There was a pause and it sounded like she was crying. "I'm not running anymore! What part of that don't you understand?!"

"WHAT PART?! ALL OF IT! I DON'T UNDERSTAND ALL OF IT, MILEY! You know what is going to happen if we don't! He is going to kill us, Miley! All of us, but especially you! Is that what you want?"

His words chilled me. So her everything's-gonna-be-just-peachy smile really was fake. Nothing was going to be okay. And she knew it.

Something touched my arm and I jumped in fright, for the second time tonight. Emily gave me a sympathetic smile. She leaned against the wall beside me. She pointed at the room and then leaned closer to me.

"It's been going on for a while." She whispered.

I heard my mom sob loudly from the room. She gasped and then continued, her voice rising. "Of course that isn't what I fucking want, Jake! I already told you this! I am not moving Cole halfway across the world for this bastard! I'm just not! He needs stability and he needs to be at his home! He needs to go back to school and he needs life to be normal! I AM _NOT RUNNING ANYMORE!" _Usually when people screamed they sounded powerful, but when she was screaming she sounded so weak. Her voice shook and it made this situation even more terrible. Not only was she going to risk her life for my happiness, but she was going to risk it even more so I could go home? This is bullshit.

"LIKE HELL YOU AREN'T!" Dad thundered. I'd never heard him talk to her like that and it honestly scared me more than the idea of this Luke guy. "YOU ARE GOING WITH ME SOMEWHERE FAR AWAY AND WE ARE GOING TO STAY THERE UNTIL I SEE THAT MAN BURIED! I AM NOT RISKING YOU AND THESE BABIES AND OUR SON JUST FOR THE COMFORT OF BEING HOME!"

Emily took my hand in the dark and squeezed it. She pulled and I let her pull me away from what that horrible man had caused. She took me away from the screaming and the fear and we ended up outside on the patio. She sat down on a chair and I sat down beside her. She kept her hand firmly around mine.

"Are you going to tell me what's happening now?" She asked. The moon was reflected in her beautiful eyes. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"Yes."

* * *

**MILEY'S POV: **

I sat down on the bed, flinching away from Jake's screaming. I wiped my tears away.

"You don't make all the decisions, Jake! You can't just tell me where I'm going! These babies are inside of _me, _Jake! I decided where I and the babies go!" I yelled. I sucked in a breath to try and stop the dizziness.

"You also made the decision to leave last time and look how great that turned out! He almost killed you and our unborn children! I had to abandon our son to come and save you when everything would have been just fine if you would have FREAKING LISTENED TO ME AND STAYED IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

"STOP FUCKING YELLING AT ME!" I hollered. I let out a sob and inhaled. "Stop! Why can't you just respect that I am tired, Jake! I am tired of running from him and I'm tired of letting him dictate where and how I live my damn life! I just want to go home to the house we bought! I just want to go home and have these babies and be able to watch Cole graduate from high school in the school he actually started in with the friends he's had since he was young! I want him to be able to have a normal relationship with somebody he loves! I'm not moving and taking him away from Emily, Jake! I'm not doing it! So if you want to run then go ahead!" I motioned at the door. "But I am NOT going!"

His jaw was clenched as he inhaled deeply and tried to control his volume. When he spoke it wasn't yelling and I felt like crying in relief.

"I don't respect it because you're being stupid! I don't want to yell at you, Miley, and I don't want to fight—

"Then why are you?!"

"BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO! YOU'RE WALKING INTO YOUR OWN GRAVE AND I WILL NOT STAND BY AND JUST LET IT HAPPEN! I CAN'T! I LOVE YOU TOO MUCH AND IF YOU LOVED ME YOU WOULD SAVE YOURSELF INSTEAD OF DOING EXACTLY WHAT HE WANTS!"

I ran my fingers through my hair and yanked at it, trying to figure out how to vent all the emotions inside of me without screaming at Jake like he was screaming at me. It didn't work.

"OF COURSE I LOVE YOU! YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU! BUT GOD DAMMIT JAKE I JUST DON'T WANT TO WASTE MY LIFE RUNNING WHEN HE'S JUST GOING TO FIND US ANYWAY! I WILL NOT TELL OUR SON TO LOVE THAT GIRL AND I WILL NOT HIDE FROM LUKE ANYMORE. I'M JUST NOT DOING IT!"

Jake swore loudly and punched the wall so hard it dented. He breathed heavily for a moment before turning back around. His shoulders slumped and his head bowed.

"Then he is going to kill you. He is going to kill you and those babies. He is going to kill Cole and he is going to kill me."

His words drenched my insides with ice water. I found breathing painful. Jake sat beside me. He ran a hand through his hair and gently set his hands on my shoulders. He pushed me slowly so I was lying down. He held me down and spoke with desperation.

"Don't you love me, Miley? Don't you love our family? Don't you—"

"Of cour—"

"LET ME TALK!" He screamed. I closed my eyes and cried. I didn't want to see anger on his face as it stared down at mine. His breathing took on an irregular pattern.

"I can't live without you. I can't do it. When we go to the airport tomorrow, we're getting on a plane to England. We're going to go and be safe and—"

"Do you hear yourself, Jake?! You can't make me go anywhere I don't want to go. I am going to California. I am going home. Whether you come or not."

His grip on my shoulders tightened.

"Please don't do this, Miley," He begged in a voice so soft the volume change hurt my ears, "Please. He is going to hurt you." He eased back and pulled his hands off my shoulders. He rested them on my stomach. "He is going to kill our babies." His eyes were moist. He took my hand in his and cradled it to his cheek. His skin was smooth underneath my touch. He smiled sadly at me. "He is going to kill me and I will never, ever see you again." His hands shook as he dropped my hand. "Is _that _what you want?"

I dissolved into tears. I sat up and wrapped my arms around him and cried into his chest. He rubbed my back and kissed my head. I was lying when I said I could leave without him. I knew that wouldn't happen. Wherever he went I was going too.

"What do you want me to say, Jake?" I begged. "No matter where we go he will find us. He will and you know it. Please, I just want to go home." I fell silent and breathed in the smell of his skin. "I just want to be with you. I just want our son to be happy. Why can't I have all of those?" I held tighter to him as if I could already feel him slipping away. "Things were getting so good again, Jake. After all we've been through, they were looking up. Can't we just pretend they still are? Can't we just stick to the original plan and take whatever is thrown at us?" He started to say something but I reached up and pressed my hand over his mouth. "I'm finished with trying to talk and decide what to do. All that has done is made us scream at each other. For once, instead of thinking, let's just feel. I know what I feel. I feel that I want to go home to our house. I want to lay with you in our bed. What do you feel?"

I pulled my hand off his mouth and listened to his heartbeat. It drowned out the silence.

"I feel fear. I want to go home as much as you do, Miley, but I want you alive more." He whispered.

"That girl might be lying, Jake. Does that sound like something Luke would say? Do you think he would agree to leave us alone? I don't think so. I think he's dead and a desperate little girl made that story up because she loves someone who doesn't love her back. I think until we know for sure there's a threat, we should treat her story like what it is. Complete bullshit." I stroked through his hair. "Look what it has done to us."

He exhaled and held my head between his hands. He pulled my face back and kissed me softly. Then he took me back in his arms which was where I belonged to begin with.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. Maybe you're right. That girl probably did make it up. I just…well, all I can really say is I love you." He held me tighter. "The thought of losing you makes me act crazy."

"I'm sorry you knocked me up which caused my hormones to freak out." I joked. He kissed my cheek hard.

"Haha, very funny."

I smiled against him. "I'm sorry I yelled at you too."

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry for knocking you up."

I laughed louder than I meant to. We had probably woken up the whole house with the screaming…oops. If not the loud laughter did the job.

"You don't have to apologize for that." I smiled.

"Yeah, that was some really great sex."

I looked up at him and rolled my eyes.

"Not what I meant. I meant I'm happy to be pregnant, so you don't have to apologize."

He rubbed my stomach. "I'm happy you're pregnant, too. But it _was _great sex."

"Yes, it was." I agreed.

"I really _am_ sorry for yelling at you." His voice was deep with regret.

"I know," I kissed his neck.

It was warm in his arms. Eventually the smell of his skin and the comfort of his arms put me to sleep. The last thought I had before losing consciousness was that I loved him.

* * *

**COLE'S POV: **

I finished explaining what happened. Emily was silent as she stared at the stars. She finally turned to me and her eyes appeared guarded, as if she expected heartbreak. Did she really think I'd give her up that easily?

"What are you going to do?" She asked quietly.

I threaded my fingers together and sighed.

"I'm not sure. I was kind of hoping you could help me with that part."

She smiled softly. "I'm kind of biased, you know."

I smiled back. "I am too."

She sat up straighter. She tucked her hair behind her ear and spoke with a matter-of-factly tone. "Well, I honestly think she's lying because she wants your body."

I grinned. "Can you really blame her? It's such a sexy body."

She playfully grabbed my bicep and ran her hands down my arm slowly. I don't think she realized how sexy she really was. I shifted in my seat and wondered how it suddenly got so hot out here.

"She should know there are other ways in getting it," She joked. Okay, it's sweltering out here. And if I don't control my mind I'm going to get some guy problems.

I changed the subject quickly. "But you really think she's lying?"

"Yes, I do. I'm her best friend, after all. I would know."

"You know, you're best friends with the worst girls in my life." I realized suddenly. "Lila, Caitlyn…"

"And you helped me realize what petty bitches they were."

"You're welcome."

She giggled and moved her chair closer. She rested her head on my shoulder.

"If you have to leave me, I will understand." She whispered.

"I know you will." And somehow that would make it harder to do.

"But I won't like it." She stated firmly.

"I would hope not!" I exclaimed. She laughed again and it was the most beautiful sound in the world. I love her.

She yawned. "I love you, Testosterone."

"I have to admit that's my least favorite nickname of them all." I grimaced. She giggled again.

"What if I started calling you Mosquito?"

I choked on laughter. If only she knew…

"That's still a step up from Testosterone." Testosterone implies she actually knows how perverted I am…

"Big C?"

"Better."

"CC?"

"Still better." For some reason "CC" made me remember an ex who thought "CC" in an email meant "copy copy".

"C-dizzle?"

The sound of that word coming out of her pretty, innocent lips made me burst into laughter.

"Still better."

"Coley?"

"My mom calls me that."

She sighed. "Damn," She said sarcastically, "I really liked that one. Guess I'm stuck with Testosterone."

"Just to warn you—if you call me Testosterone I'm calling you Estrogen."

She winced. "Yeah, I guess it isn't a very fun nickname."

"Nope."

She glanced at the rising sun.

"We really should go back to bed before it's time to go."

Ugh. She was right.

"Probably." We stood up and walked to her room in silence. She lingered outside the door for a moment. She seemed to make up her mind. She walked forward, looped her arms around my neck, and kissed me deeply. When she pulled away my head was spinning. She smiled.

"Goodnight, C-dizzle." She disappeared into her room. I stood outside her door for a moment before I remembered how to walk and talk.

"Night…"

"_Whiiiiiiped_."

I turned around to see my dad passing me in the hallway. He was smiling so I guessed him and mom were finished having a screaming competition. I followed him down the hallway.

"Hey!" I stopped him in the kitchen. He turned around.

"Oh! Hi son!" He exclaimed in false innocence. I narrowed my eyes at him. He walked over to the fridge.

"Are you and mom finished screaming your heads off at each other?" I asked casually. I leaned against the counter while he rummaged around inside the refrigerator. His voice was muffled when he replied.

"You heard that?"

"Who _didn't _hear that?" I snorted.

"Sorry. We worked it out." He continued rummaging around. He paused. "What all did you hear?"

"I heard you bossing her around and her deciding to risk her life so I could have stability in my life…" I shook my head in disbelief. Women.

He pulled his head out of the fridge and stood up straight.

"I'm going to tell you something and don't ever forget it: Don't scream at the girl you love because afterwards you feel _very _shitty and want to drown your self-loathing in food." He went back to searching the fridge. I thought about how I would feel if I screamed at Emily until she cried and I decided that was good advice.

"Huh," He scratched his head, "that is so weird. I could have sworn I put my steak right here." He stared into the fridge.

Oops.

"Steak? Oh yeah I think I saw that. It's _way _back there." He groaned and started pulling things out and setting them on the floor beside him. I stifled a laugh. "I'm gonna go to bed now. Try not to wake me up with your two's screaming, okay?"

He muttered something and then laughed quite evilly to himself.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh, good. You didn't hear that." He laughed again.

I decided I most likely didn't want to know.

"Okay, night Dad."

He laughed. "Night? It's almost time to wake up anyway."

"Since when are you an early riser?" I demanded.

He started taking everything off the second shelf in the fridge.

"Since I'm awesome like that."

"You're weird." I collapsed on the couch and yawned. I'll just sleep here until everyone else gets up.

"The most talented are always the ones people call weird." He cheerfully argued.

"Right." I mumbled. "Just don't fight anymore. As the old song says…war is good for absolutely nothing."

He fell silent.

"Dad?"

I picked my head up and he was looking at the fridge in anger. I figured he must have realized I ate his steak and was furious about it.

"I hate him, Cole," he whispered suddenly, his voice shaking with anger. "I hate him so fucking much that sometimes I can't stand it."

Whoa. Bipolar, much? But I understood. I hated that man too. Dad must really be angry though because he doesn't drop the f-bomb in front of me a lot. Something I said triggered his reaction but I wasn't sure what it was.

"So kill him." I said casually.

He paused again. He looked funny sitting between tons of food with a deep thinking face on.

"If only I could. I don't suppose your mother would forgive me if I went on a search for him and missed the babies being born, though." He sighed longingly at the thought of killing him. He continued carefully, as if he wanted to talk to me about this but wasn't sure if he should. "The night before your mom left back in New York…I got her drunk to find out what was wrong."

I sat up fully and raised an eyebrow. This was news.

"And when she was drunk she told me what happened that day she got hurt…" He trailed off. I waited. "A part of me wishes I wouldn't have asked because I can't get it out of my head. I keep hearing her voice telling me and it makes me want to murder him."

I think maybe this was why he and I were a little closer. He talked to me like an equal, whereas Mom tried to shelter me from every little thing. He talked to me like he actually respected and trusted my opinion.

"It already happened, Dad. All you can really do is hope you'll meet him one day when you're randomly out in the woods with a gun in your hands."

He sighed. "It's not that easy, Cole."

"Oh?" I challenged.

"Just wait until you fall in love and someone hurts the person you're in love with. It's not even near as easy to control anger as you think it is."

And now he's annoying me. Hmph. I don't like when he acts like he's so much wiser than me. Well, I mean, he _is _but…

"And," he continued, "I think I may have accidently taken all the pent up anger out on your mom. I usually don't yell at her. And that is something that can't happen again. Just the thought makes me sick."

"Learn voodoo! That will help get out some of the pent up anger!"

I was glad he trusted me enough to talk to me about serious things, but I had no idea what to say. He really didn't need advice. They always worked the problems in their relationship out on their own. If they didn't I don't guess they'd still be married today.

He laughed suddenly. "I can tell I'm boring you. No kid wants to hear about their parent's problems. I'll let you get some sleep. Now where's that damn steak…"

I laughed internally and turned over, willing sleep to come. It seemed to like me because it came eagerly, carrying confusing dreams in which I roamed through a forest from Jurassic Park and chased a dinosaur that looked creepily like a mixture between Caitlyn and my principal around for hours because it bit Emily and hurt her. And for a moment, in the dream world, I understand the fury my dad had been speaking of.

It was worse than the power of guilt.

* * *

She sat on the edge of his bed. She smoothed his hair back and tried talking to him, but he just stared out the window blankly. After a few moments, he began responding to her, and they talked for a while about nothing. She didn't ask him the things she most needed to and he didn't make an effort to tell her anything. Nighttime rolled around before they said anything worthwhile.

"What you told Caitlyn…" She trailed off. "Did you mean that?"

He took a sip of the water a nurse brought him and pulled the blankets up farther on him, as if the ice water had completely chilled him from the inside out.

"Yes. If he makes her happy, then he can be happy and alive." His voice sounded hoarse.

She played with a string on her shirt.

"And his mother?"

He looked out the window again.

"I don't want to talk about her. You heard what I said to Caitlyn. She lives too, as long as her son makes my daughter happy. I will keep my word."

She glanced at their daughter in the corner. She was staring at her phone, as if willing the boy to call her.

"And if he doesn't make her happy?"

"Alyssa," his voice was cold and sarcastic and so very familiar. The heartlessness in it made Alyssa have to bite back a smile. Her Luke was back. She had missed him so much. He smiled slowly at her. "Don't you know me at all?"

But of course she did. She knew this man! She kissed him like he had come back from war (which he had). And when she pulled away she expected things to be right, but the new Luke's distant gaze was back.

Her heart hurt and she realized that if he had killed that whole family she wouldn't have cared. The only thing that matters or every mattered was him. And that bitch diminished him; she took him away and turned him into someone else.

Who did she think she was?


	42. Six

**A/n: **Thanks for all the reviews last chapter! They'll be just as appreciated this chapter :D

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**"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." -- Madonna, "4 Minutes".

* * *

**

Oliver stopped Jake just as were going to board the plane.

I hesitated and moved my ticket away from the man taking them. I moved to the back of line and Emily and Cole exchanged confused glances before following. I watched Oliver explain something to Jake. He kept shooting me panicked glances and I guessed what this was about.

"I'll be right back, don't board without us." I whispered to the teenagers. I walked over to Jake and Oliver and set my hands on my hips.

"What?" I demanded.

Oliver glanced at Jake. Jake nodded. Oliver looked back at me and took a deep breath.

"Claire called Alyssa. Apparently Alyssa is with her husband at the hospital. She told Claire that he accidently overdosed on medication."

My stomach dropped and I got the familiar feeling of someone watching me. I wasn't sure what to say, or if there were even words for this moment. Jake's desperate glance spoke to me. _Please!, _it said_, let's board a different flight! Let's go somewhere far away! This is the proof you were talking about! _

"We still don't know if he really said that to Caitlyn." Is what I settled with. Jake's shoulders slumped and his eyes filled with the despair of all these years. Oliver hugged me and clapped Jake's shoulder before hurrying over to Emily and Cole.

Jake grabbed onto my arm.

"Miley," he begged, "please! I have the most terrible feeling about all of this!"

"FIRST CLASS BOARDING NOW! FINAL CALL!"

I pulled my arm gently away.

I smiled painfully. "It will all be okay, Jake. Really. You'll see. I promise."

I started toward the gate. I handed the worker my ticket. Jake grabbed my arm again and pulled me a few steps out of the man's hearing zone.

"Do you remember when I told you to stay home with me? You refused and then said you promised you'd be okay?"

I felt like I was getting pricked with needles. He stared into my eyes and refused to back down, even when they grew moist.

"Did everything turn out okay then, Miley?"

I yanked my arm from him and hurried over to the confused worker. He allowed me through. Cole, Emily, Oliver, and Claire were already in their seats. There were two sections of seats with three rows in each section. There were two seats in each row. Claire was using a whole row to take a nap and Oliver was seated in the row in front of her. Cole and Emily were on the first row on the opposite section, sitting beside each other. I crossed the floor and sat defiantly beside Oliver. I sniffed and wiped my eyes and ignored his gaze.

"Um…" he trailed off.

"What?" I snapped.

He raised his hands in innocence.

"Nothing! I just thought you'd sit with Jake."

I glanced up as the said person entered. He gave me an exasperated look and sat in the row beside this one in the other section. I looked away from him. I couldn't explain to myself why I was so angry. Was it because he was right? Or was it just because the way he had brought of that day sounded almost accusatory, as if he blamed me for what happened. Maybe it was my fault. I was being stubborn, just like I am now. Is this really so much like what happened before? He seems to think so.

Oliver continued to gaze at me. He groaned.

"Oh, God! Don't tell me you two are arguing again!" He complained. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and glared at the back of the seat in front of me.

"Whose best friend are you, anyway?" Traitor.

"I'm not trying to pick sides! What are you two fighting over anyway?"

Adeline squirmed and Odette turned. I stroked over them and glanced back over at Jake. He was listening to an iPod (either his, Cole's, or mine…I wasn't sure). My anger was already melting away.

"He wants to go to Europe." I told Oliver softly. A baby aimed kicks at my pelvis. I continued stroking over them in hopes they'd go back to sleep. "He thinks that Caitlyn's claim is legitimate." I looked back over at him and sighed. "He just cares about us."

I watched him nod his head along with the song and a smile touched my lips.

"So why don't you go to Europe?" Oliver asked. He patted my stomach. "I think the babies would be safer somewhere that monster isn't."

I took a kick to the spine and kidney and tried to convince myself that it wasn't them agreeing with Oliver.

"Because, Oliver…" I trailed off, already weary and sick of repeating myself. "I am sick of running from him. I want to live my life the way I want, you know? I want to go home and I want Cole to be home. I don't want to have to move him to a different country."

Oliver nodded and glanced at Emily and Cole. She was looking at him with the most lovesick expression.

"No, I don't think you could do that to him. Or Emily." Oliver sighed. He looked back at me. "Just be careful that you don't let your need for comfort trample over your common sense."

_But I think that may have already happened. _

A stewardess appeared through the curtain that separated coach from first class. She was young, probably very early twenties, and was smiling so brightly it annoyed me. She pushed a cart down between the two sections.

"Would anyone care for something today?" Her voice sounded like a twelve year olds. She scanned all of us and her eyes landed on Cole. She walked toward him with a coy smile on her face and Jake and I glanced at each other.

"Anything I can do for you?" She asked suggestively. Um, hello?! Pedophile alert! He does NOT look eighteen!

"Sure, I'll take the finest champagne you have." He answered smoothly. She grinned and I watched in disbelief as she poured him a glass.

"No!" I exclaimed. She turned to me and raised an eyebrow.

"And you are?" She asked.

"His _mother_! He's fifteen! Get rid of that!" What the hell?!

She flushed. "Oh."

"I'll take the champagne, though." Oliver grinned. She handed him the champagne. She turned to Jake with the same look. Then she looked back at me and sighed, looking crestfallen. I guess she realized who we were then and that we were married.

"I'll take some champagne, too." Jake mumbled. She poured him some. Cole and Oliver then proceeded to order food like they hadn't eaten in years.

"Do you have any steak?" Jake's voice sounded miserable. Cole choked on the soda he was drinking and Emily patted his back.

The stewardess talked to Jake about steak that probably cost thirty dollars while I thought about Jake's words. I was stubborn that day and it resulted in disaster. I was being stubborn the day I left and it resulted in Luke almost killing me, Jake, and the babies.

Why had I thought the pattern would just stop because I decided I was finished?

"Would you like something? Miss?" I looked up at the stewardess. Did I want anything…oh! It took me a moment to process her question.

"Water and a bag of pretzels." I quickly answered. She handed me the bottled water and bag of pretzels.

"Your food will be ready soon," She waved as she left the compartment.

I opened the bag and chewed on a pretzel, but it tasted like cardboard. I set the bag down and grabbed the back of the seat in front of me. I pulled myself up and I walked over to Jake's row. I hesitated outside of it.

"Any room for me?" I asked. He smiled softly at me.

"Oh, I don't know…I'll have to think about it." He paused for about ten seconds. "Yes."

He moved his legs and I slid past him. I sat in the seat beside his and found it was somehow more comfortable.

"Nice for you to join me." He smiled again.

"Sorry for getting so angry." I muttered. I moved the arm rest that separated the wide and cushioned seats. I leaned my head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around me. He stroked my hair thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry I upset you." He replied honestly. With my ear pressed against his chest, his words seemed to vibrate around me.

"Oh, Jake," I whispered against him, "I think I am being stubborn. I think you're right. No, I know you're right."

He continued stroking my hair and stayed silent. I expected him to say that we could get on a different plane once we landed, but he said nothing. It seemed to be forever until he actually uttered something.

He touched my stomach and both the babies moved as if greeting their father.

"I want you where you feel most comfortable." He answered. "I don't want you having to recover from surgery in a country or town you don't want to be in. The safety of you and the babies is first priority, and everything else will be pushed back in line until they are born."

The relief that flooded me at those words was astounding. I realized that it went farther than just being sick of running—I really longed for home. I longed for the beach access in our backyard, for the bedroom, and I longed for my family that I left behind.

But something inside of me couldn't be silenced. _Well, _it whispered, _will you be able to live with yourself if something happens to your children or Jake just because you missed your daddy, best friend, and brother? _

Nothing will happen. Even if it does, we'll all be alright. I had to believe it.

About midway into the flight, they started playing three movies on the TV screen built into the backs of the seats in front of us. Our TV was showing a horror movie so terrible I couldn't stand to watch the rest. Afterwards, I talked and listened to music with Jake while he ate his steak as if it were the best food he had ever consumed. The sun began to set as the plane landed in the state I had dubbed as home a long time ago.

* * *

Home.

There is honestly, without a doubt, nothing like it.

I hurried to the front door, unable to wait any longer to be enveloped by the familiarity and memories that a home breeds.

When I walked into my home it felt like stumbling into Jake's arms. Everything familiar engulfed me—the smells, the surroundings, the sounds. It smelled of the detergents and soaps we used, it looked like love and my life, and the humming of the air conditioning was so normal it seemed out of place.

I ran my hands over the walls as I passed them and I flicked on lights as I entered rooms. Everything was just the way it ought to have been.

By the time I made it to the room I had missed the most, night had finally fallen. I pushed the door open slowly and breathed in aromas I had forgotten. The sight of the room pleased me. I had forgotten how beautiful the moonlight was against our shimmering, silver walls. It glowed against them, drizzling in from outside, where it bathed dew-coated grass in silver. The most gorgeous, creamy hue of light soaked every inch of the room, almost as if it were shining from a slowly blossoming, white silk flower. It was almost as if we had our own personal moon taped to the wall. This had been the reason Jake and I had chosen this color and I had missed it very much. After all, what room could compare to one that had stolen the moon?

Jake appeared to share my thoughts. He was lying on top of the blanket, just staring at the wall. Not many things could be as beautiful as the moonlight dancing on his skin. I was tired, as if the moonlight had drawn all energy from me. It was enticing me with its whispers and caressing. _Stay, _it cooed, _stay for a while. _And who was I to deny an old friend?

I pulled off my uncomfortable clothes and let them fall to the floor like useless toys. I crawled into my bed and understood that this was real comfort. Nothing else was up to par. The silk blanket—so carefully matched to the moonlight our bedroom was designed after—was so soft it slid over me like air. I pulled the soft sheets and blankets over me and leaned my head against my pillow. All the muscles in my body that had been aching and hurting for months faded and became a thing of the past.

Jake slid under the covers with me and pulled me to him, as if things weren't quite right without me there. He set his hands on my stomach and the babies stretched, as if they too were settling in for a comfortable sleep. I leaned my forehead against his chest and sleep stole me away as if I had always belonged to it. My last thought was that maybe, just maybe, I always had.

* * *

Jake was sitting beside me in a bus. It was traveling along the road so fast everything inside of it was being shaken and thrown around. I looked at Jake and he had dark sunglasses covering his eyes.

"Jake?" I touched his arm. It was cold and I wished he'd put on a jacket. "Where are we going?"

He pointed outside his window and a sign passed. It was bright orange and told that we were heading to Nashville. Outside, it was so dry. All I could see was the poorly paved road and dirt. Tons and tons of dirt.

"It's gotten so dry," I whispered. I touched the glass of the window and tried to remember if it had always been this way, after all. I couldn't remember anything of growing up around here and it bothered me. Crowley Corners wasn't far from here, right? But maybe it was. Maybe it was in another state. Yes, this couldn't be Tennessee. This had to be somewhere far, far away where only the hot sun and ugly buses dare to venture. Outside the window, flocks and flocks of vultures crowded the dry, cracked land. They flew overhead like Death itself, and walked along the roads as if they feared nothing, not even buses with the power to turn them into black smears on the wore-down pavement. The farther the bus seemed to travel the thicker the flocks became. When I looked toward the future of this road, all I saw was a moving sea of black.

"It's because of the drought." Someone murmured. I turned around and a person that was so familiar yet so not at the same time smiled at me. "It hasn't rained for years. Not since that February when it rained so much folks said the sky was crying for what it had lost."

The woman stroked the head of a baby and I suddenly felt a loss inside me as wide as a ravine. I touched my stomach and it was flat and empty. My heart felt dead and I looked around me.

"Jake!" I shook his arm. He looked up at me, finally. His face was expressionless, and I couldn't see his eyes because those damned sunglasses. "Where are my babies, my children?! What has happened?!" I gasped as if the vultures were snacking on my lungs.

He gave me another blank look and just pointed at my feet. Three babies, small as newborns, were sharing the same small car seat. I put one in my each of my arms and set one on my lap. Whose baby was the third? I felt the same frustration as when I glanced at the woman. I knew this. But at the same time I did not.

The one on my lap cried and cried as if it knew it just didn't belong. I did all I could to make it feel as if it did, but it just wouldn't quit. I set it back in the car seat and it stopped crying, as if my presence had been spoiling it all along. My babies slept in my arms, as if that's all they knew how to do. They were so small, with heads as dark as ashes. Where did the black hair come from?

"It will fade," the woman reassured me. She smiled again and I couldn't place her. "Soon it will be as golden as light and just as beautiful."

I stroked over their hair. As golden as light…yes, I liked that description very, very much.

Jake took off the sunglasses and smiled at me. He was eighteen again and when I looked at myself in the rearview mirror I realized I was too. My heart was lighter than it had been. He leaned across the seat and kissed my cheekbones lightly.

"Jake…" I whispered. And it was a name as golden as light. He grinned again and his eyes were as green as the life that used to grow in the dry land surrounding us. I suddenly felt like all the vultures noticed that too. I felt like they wanted him for his eyes, so they could gaze into them and see what they had been missing for all these years. He wrapped his arms around me and the babies and the baby in the car seat suddenly started crying again. When I looked down at it, its hair was golden like the sun, and it was my son. I handed Jake the two girls and pulled this baby into my arms. Yes, it made sense. If Jake and I were this age, he had to be a baby. He let me hold him and seemed just as happy as his sisters in his mother's arms. It was so easy. To hold on to my son all I had to do was go back in time! So, so easy. I had to remember. I had to always remember.

But the denser the vultures got, the older my son and Jake and I got. We aged fast, until we were all the ages we had been. Cole helped us hold the babies and the woman behind us starting spitting profanities.

"Vile, evil people! You are a family sent from Hell! You have scorned everyone and for that you shall pay most dearly! The vultures will peck and peel your skin away until you are nothing more than bones to further dry up the Earth!" She reached over and drew my babies away from me.

"NO! NO! GIVE THEM BACK TO ME! YOU CAN'T HAVE THEM!" I tried to get to them, but Jake held me back. She took Cole by the hand and pulled him over to her and he went without struggle. Suddenly the baby she was holding long before took on a familiar face and I knew who this woman was. This was Death. She had taken my children before and she was back to do it again.

"YOU WON'T TAKE THEM FROM ME A SECOND TIME! I AM GOING WHERE EVER YOU TAKE THEM!" I pushed against Jake's grip, but as he always did, he held me back from Death. It wasn't that I wanted to go with her; it was that I wanted to show her the pain she showed me. I wanted to even the score.

"YOU DEVIL!" I screamed, and my voice was so shrill it disturbed the birds. "YOU MONSTER! YOU DEMON!"

She smiled a truly haunting smile.

"I have many names. I am Death, I am a Monster, I am a Demon, I am a Nightmare, I am the wife of Lucifer. But you can call me Alyssa."

And suddenly the face took on a form I recognized and she waved at me, as if this were a casual meeting.

"You will pay for what you have tried to do! You tried to take my heart and now I will take your life in the most painful way possible!" She held so tight to my children they cried and I cried, too. "Do you know why I am a woman?" She seemed to squeeze my soul together with her dark eyes. "Because I have bore children inside my womb and I have known all the bonds humans can make! Because I have been a mother and I understand, unlike men, what really destroys a woman! I take what she created and grew, what is as much as part of her as her heart, or brain—but much easier to access—, and I rip it away and destroy it in front of her very eyes!"

And she held tighter to them and they cried more and more and my heart stopped beating regularly and my lungs felt like they were filled with ice. I could hardly breathe.

"Now you feel what he felt when you poisoned him," She cooed, "now you understand!"

And she was gone, with my children.

"NO!" I ran to the spot she was but I could find nothing, no trace that she had stolen what kept me alive.

The bus jerked to a stop and Jake steadied me. His eyes were filled with tears but I was so distraught I could not cry. The bus doors opened and I thought for a moment it was my children! But the man who haunted me like a ghost walked into the bus, holding a knife so familiar it almost seemed to wink at me.

"I am never gone," he reminded me with a grin so evil it froze me. And before I could exhale my breath he had Jake chained to the floor. He stood over him with the knife.

"HELP!" I screamed. I looked around. Where were the other passengers?! There wasn't even a bus driver! "HELP!" I screamed in vain. All that came were vultures. They flew into the bus and pulled at my hair and skin with their beaks. I beat them with my hands. "GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

But the birds of Hell did everything but back off. They only paused when Luke pressed the knife to Jake's chest. His face was covered with excruciating pain and I screamed out as blood as red as the eyes of the birds around me leaked out. He gasped and touched the cut with an almost dreamlike expression. The birds began attacking me again. I could feel my own skin being sliced and torn. But Jake! Jake had to be okay!

I heard the sound of the knife slicing again and this time it was his face. Right between his eyes, down his nose, splitting his mouth in half. Blood everywhere. Everywhere. I couldn't escape it. He was crying and I was crying more. His pain hurt worse than the birds surrounding me. His name, once so golden as light, was heavy as the pain around us. I kicked at the man killing him.

Jake connected eyes with me. They were streaming in blood. Could he even see me?

"I'm here." I promised him. I touched his arm and his eyes shut in relief. "I'm here."

The man over him turned slowly to me. He smiled a smile as scary as the blood all around me.

"Never gone." He repeated. And the knife plunged down and killed the only bright green left in this dead, red world.

* * *

My heart was beating so fast it was surely dying. Jake's hands had a tight grip on my face but all I could hear was my heartbeat and a whimpering that was coming from me. When I opened my eyes the moonlight and Jake greeted me like soothing balm. I gasped and shuddered and everything was wrong. My heart, my breathing, even the babies were kicking like they were trying to fight out all the bad in my mind.

I pushed myself up into a sitting position, as if that would drive away the nightmare. Nightmare? It had to have been. Oh, but had anything ever felt so real? It had felt more real than life itself. I tore at the blankets until they were off me and the cold air breathed on my hot skin. A nightmare. I looked around and I was in my bedroom and Jake was perfectly fine. A nightmare. I gasped again and accepted that it would be a while before my heart, my breathing, or the babies calmed down. My face was so wet as if I'd emerged it in the ocean.

"I knew this was a terrible idea!" Jake hissed into the darkness, his voice as shaky as my hearts rhythm. "The first night and you're already acting like you did all those years ago!"

But he was alive. Oh, God, he was alive! I pulled him to me and held onto him as if someone were trying to take him away. Those awful birds, that terrible knife…I shuddered and tried to think of other things. I pulled away from Jake and touched everything I could reach, wary of any signs of blood. His face was the last I checked, and I stroked my thumb down his forehead and nose and lips, making sure everything was the way it was supposed to be. I kissed him so many times my lips grew numb. The babies calmed after a while and my heart followed.

"My God, Miley," he whispered as I kissed him again, "what kind of dream was this?"

I was shaking so hard, and I realized I hadn't ever stopped. He held tightly to me, trying to hold back the shuddering. I was crazy. I was insane. There was no other explanation. I couldn't even speak. All I could do was shake and kiss him. And cry, but that was an effortless task by now.

"Jesus!" Jake cried. He held me tighter. "Why can't they just leave us alone?!"

He pulled me into his arms and stood up. He carried me out of the bedroom and into the living room. He turned on all the lights and sat me upright on the sofa. The leather was freezing against my bare legs. He started to walk away and I screamed out. I grabbed tight to him and pulled him back on the sofa with me. Crazy. I was crazy.

"I'm insane," I wheezed to Jake. The thought scared me more than anything. "I'm crazy!"

He stroked my hair and kissed my shoulders.

"Everyone has nightmares, baby." He soothed. "You aren't crazy."

He looked at my face and seemed to understand that I didn't believe him. He kissed me for a long time and it was healing.

"Do you remember the horror movie we saw on the plane?" My thoughts automatically flickered to the gruesome thing. I nodded. "Your mind just mixed that with whatever you fear most. You aren't crazy." He kissed me again. And I vaguely remembered a bus and a desert setting in that movie, too. A weight was lifted off my shoulders. The unoriginality of my thoughts was comforting. So it was the movie and my fears that had created that monstrosity of a nightmare. But the birds…where did they come in? There were no vultures in the horror movie, and I didn't necessarily have a fear of them either. Well, I didn't before now anyway.

"It was terrible," I whispered. "Everything that I am terrified of happening happened and I could do nothing to stop it." I pushed myself closer to him and stroked his face once more. He was here and alive. Relax. I couldn't, though. I just couldn't. There are dreams and nightmares in life that just cling tight to you and refuse to let go no matter how hard you try to shake them. And sometimes, they cling for a reason.

He kissed my jaw and stroked the bare skin covering our unborn daughters. He kissed my lower lip gently. "Do you hear that?" He asked. I strained my ears and recognized the sound of a video game.

"Everything is fine. I am alive," he kissed my lips again just to prove it, "your daughters are alive," they kicked to back his statement up, "and your son is alive. It was all just a terrible nightmare fueled from horror movies, fear, pregnancy hormones, and airplane food. When morning comes it will all be less scary." I knew he must have been right. While the moonlight was good, fears and bad things hide in the dark corners that not even moonlight could infiltrate.

"Don't leave me though," I pleaded.

"Never." He promised. He took my hand and sat in the armchair. He pulled me down on his lap and I leaned my head back on his shoulder. He leaned his against the back of the chair and his arms wrapped around my stomach. My hands were already there and he wove his with mine so both of them were protecting the children that had not been, but would be. He kissed my cheek and I didn't think about the nightmare, or the fact that if Cole woke up before us he'd see us sitting in an armchair with just our underwear on, or Luke. I just thought about how Jake had a good reason to be egocentric, because he really was one of a kind.

* * *

She ignored the urge to slap her child across the face.

"He is probably occupied." The girl defended him. She threw out excuses as to why he hasn't gotten back to her like she had a book full of them hidden somewhere. And while she grew restless, her father grew tired. He didn't talk about anything anymore. He didn't laugh, he didn't smile, he barely moved. And every moment that passed like this made the mother's heart grow cold and furious.

"Has the boy gotten back to you yet?" She demanded on the sixth day. Caitlyn shook her head, but quickly offered more excuses.

"He's just busy!" He explained.

Her father asked for an update that night.

"She says he is busy," Alyssa whispered. He coughed and ran a tired hand over his face. Resisting the urge to kill this girl was literally tearing him apart. He was detoxing from his obsession so slowly Alyssa feared it would go on until he died.

"Six days," he whispered, "he has six days to make her happy. If she isn't happy in those six days, I will do what I had planned for that family all along."

Do it! She wanted to scream. Kill them, torture them, do whatever it takes to make you live again! I don't care if you skin her alive, just go back to normal! Be my love, the one I fell for so long ago. Be evil, be cruel…just don't be a stranger. Anything but that.

"Why are you doing this for Caitlyn?" The mother cried suddenly. "She isn't worth this!"

How quick she was to betray her own child!

He turned an almost thoughtful expression on his wife.

"Yes, she isn't. But that is our fault, because she could have been."

"Don't throw yourself away for the brat! Don't do it! She doesn't care about you, Luke! She would watch you die without blinking an eye! Forget her and do what you want like you always used to do!"

"Six days." He repeated. "She is worth six days. But after that she disappears from my mind and I will do as I wish."

Six days could be so very long. She stared at the wall. If that boy did contact Caitlyn, those six days would turn to years, possibly forever…no. She wasn't losing her husband to her daughter. It wasn't happening.

She waited until Caitlyn was asleep. She stole her phone and played around with it until she realized how to block numbers. She went into contacts and found the boy's number. She memorized it carefully and then entered it to be blocked. No communication from this number anytime soon. She set it back and prepared to watch her child's heart be broken, and her husband's restored.

No saving words would be coming from the Ryan child in the next six days. They were bound for a terrible fate whether they liked it or not. Six days and her husband would have evil plans to live for again. His face would grow dark and he would stare into space and think of truly genius things. There was no telling when he would attack them, but she knew one thing for sure.

He would come back as soon as the evil thinking did. As soon as he stopped using so much effort to contain it he would be healthier and happier and more like the man she loved.

Had anyone ever been so dedicated to love?


	43. Talk

**A/n: **Sorry for the wait. Sorry this chapter is so suckish. I'm about to pass out from exhaustionnnn.** Anyway, TONS of thanks to hanfan89, nysunsetangel, fictiongirl101, SVUlover, daisy617, All-American Dork06, and last but certainly not least, speedsONEandONLY. Thank you all for taking the time to review last chapter, you do not know how much I appreciate it.** This is another one of those chapters that got done cooking when the taste-testers were out of town, so I apologize for any strange tastes. That was an odd metaphor...um...anyway. I hope you enjoy this chapter at least some :)

* * *

**"I'm battle scarred, I am workin' oh so hard  
To get back to who I used to be" **

**--- A Fine Frenzy, "Near to You"

* * *

**

"_Mommy? Am I going to die?" _

_Cole's small voice made my heart contract and my hands shake. I pulled the thermometer off his forehead and kissed the spot where it was. I smoothed a hand over his hair and read the small screen. One hundred and three point four. It still wasn't going down. He leaned back against me, shivering. I set the thermometer back on the table and he turned so he was sitting sideways in my lap with the side of his face resting against my chest. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I stroked his hair back. _

"_Of course not, baby." I whispered. The moonlight made him look sicker. I leaned my head down so my cheek was pressing against his forehead. "You'll be better soon." _

_I rocked the chair slowly to match his breathing. Inhale, exhale…rock forward, rock back. He was still shivering. I pulled the blanket back up over him and he held tighter to me, as if I could make his sickness go away. I wish I could. He was throwing up all afternoon and his fever just seemed to be getting worse. I gave him a fever reducer, but it didn't seem to work. Jake went to the store to get some food Cole might be able to eat and some other kinds of medicine to try. If his fever didn't start going down in an hour I was going to bring him to the emergency room. _

_Cole sniffed and when he spoke his voice was shaky. "Make it go away, Mommy." He begged. "I don't want to be sick anymore." _

_I moved my face and kissed his forehead again. He was still burning up. I could even feel the heat on his hair as I smoothed my hand over it. He was six years old. My six year old can't die. Especially not from a stomach virus or flu or whatever this is. Right? This is two thousand and fifteen, not nineteen eighteen. But a small voice in my head reminded me that that didn't necessarily matter. It still happened, just not as commonly. _

"_I know, Coley. I would make it go away if I could." My heart ached to do what I couldn't. All I could do was stroke his hair and rock him, as if that was going to help anything. I wanted to be able to send the sickness far away, to people who deserved it. Not to my innocent, sweet son. _

_Cole sobbed and Moose whimpered. He was lying at my feet and had been the whole night. He wanted to guard his human from the pain, but the pain was inside of him. Moose clambered up and nervously pressed his nose against my hand. I pet him with my free arm and he cried again, his eyes focused on Cole. He licked Cole's arm and Cole weakly reached out and patted his dog. Moose wagged his tail and suddenly jumped up. He placed his heavy and freakishly large paws on my thighs and leaned over me, trying to reach Cole's face. Ow, ow. Heavy dog. Pain. _

_He anxiously nudged Cole's ear with his nose. Cole lifted his head and smiled feebly at Moose. Moose licked his whole face and barked happily. _

"_Thanks, boy." Cole patted Moose a few more times before he leaned his head back against me and wrapped his arms around me again. I pulled the blanket back over him and gently pushed Moose off me and the chair. He whimpered and pouted as he laid back at my feet. I went back to stroking Cole's hair and I leaned my cheek against his forehead again. Did it feel a little cooler? _

"_Do you want a song or story?" I asked him. He breathed quietly for a moment before he answered. _

"_Song." _

_I watched him shake and I thought about calling Moose back up here so he could warm him with his big, furry body. Unfortunately, he'd probably squish us both. I wrapped both my arms around him to hopefully give him more heat. His body was so hot but he looked like he was freezing. _

"_Any requests?" I asked. _

"_The diamond song," He mumbled. I pulled an arm off him and reached for the thermometer again. I took his temperature. One hundred and three point one. Thank God. I placed it back and started singing the song (he meant Make Some Noise, but he called it the diamond song because of the line that goes "you have a diamond inside of your heart/a light that shines bright as the stars"). When I finished I thought he was asleep, but he squeezed his arms that were already around my waist in what was supposed to be a hug. _

"_Do you want another song?" I asked. _

"_The mountain one." He whispered. _

_When I finished that one (The Climb is what everyone else knows it as), he asked me to sing it one more time. I sang it one more time six times before Jake finally pulled into the driveway. The headlights of his car shone into the living room through the windows and I thought Cole was finally asleep. I stopped singing for a second to see. _

"_Why'd you stop?" He murmured. I kissed his head and kept going. I was going to be singing this for days. It's addictive. _

_Jake walked in the front door. He set his keys on the table and his eyes showed concern that matched mine. He hung his jacket up and set the bag down and hurried over to us. He kissed Cole's head and my lips. _

"_How is he?" He whispered. Cole looked up sleepily and offered his dad a smile. _

"_Hi, sport! How are you feeling?" Jake smiled and mussed Cole's hair. _

"_Bad." Cole sighed and leaned his head back on me. Jake set a hand on my face. _

"_Are _you _okay?" He asked. I kissed his hand and nodded. _

"_I'm not the one with a one hundred and three point one fever." _

"_Oh, good. It went down." Jake sat on the arm of the chair. I leaned my head against his arm and felt less scared. Moose uttered a low growl from below my feet. _

"_Don't even," Jake snapped at the dog. "How many times do we have to go through this, Moose?" Moose barked sharply. "That's enough from you! They're my family! You get enough of their attention already! I'll hug them when I want to!" Moose barked four times. Cole laughed quietly and the sound warmed my heart. I laughed along not because I found Jake and Moose fighting funny anymore, but because Cole laughing made me feel happy. _

_Jake and Moose do not get along. They each felt they were the most gorgeous male in the house, and therefore their egos were conflicting. They had frequent ego competitions in the form of trying to win my affection. Jake's tally was up far more than Moose's, but only because when Jake and I argued I'd go play fetch outside with Moose, and when Moose and I argued I'd go play with Jake. Jake and I argued a lot less than Moose and I did. And yes, dogs and humans can argue. This is what a typical fight between me and Moose looks like: I come home from a long day at the studio/a photoshoot and find Moose in my closet, ripping a very expensive dress or some other valuable to shreds. I grab his collar and haul him out into the backyard, screaming "YOU'RE AN OUTSIDE DOG FOR NOW ON! YOU'RE GOING TO LIVE OUTSIDE LIKE ALL YOUR WILD BROTHERS WHO DO NAUGHTY THINGS LIKE TEAR UP THINGS WITH THEIR TEETH! AND I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO REMIND YOU HOW MUCH YOUR FUR COAT IS WORTH, BUDDY. IF I DIDN'T LOVE YOU I'D SELL IT FOR ALL THE MONEY TO BUY MY DRESSES BACK!" and then I close the door and go to the bedroom and praise Jake for always knowing Moose was an evil dog intent on destroying us all, and Moose curls up under our window and pouts until Cole comes downstairs and demands he becomes an inside dog again, or until my anger fades and I let Moose back in and pet him for thirty minutes to say I'm sorry for threatening to skin him. In short, Jake doesn't rip up my dresses with his teeth every week, which means we fight a hell of a lot less. _

_But I think Moose and Jake secretly love each other, because Moose's tail wags when he sees Jake and one time I caught Jake sitting on the floor petting Moose. They may growl at each other, but I think it's like a competing, brotherly type of relationship. Moose adores Cole, though. Cole is _his _human, and he won't let you forget it. He protects and loves Cole like no other dog I've ever met. _

"_Are you hungry, Coley?" I asked Cole. He shook his head. "Do you want to go lay down and go to sleep?" I asked. He nodded. Jake lifted Cole off me and into his arms. He carried him to our bedroom and I sighed as Moose trotted quickly after them, trying to out-walk Jake. I opened the bags Jake brought home and pulled the drinks he got for Cole out. I went into the kitchen and poured Cole a glass and brought some crackers back too, in case he ended up being hungry after all. _

_When I entered the bedroom, I had to struggle not to collapse in laughter. Moose was lying in Jake's spot with a huge grin on his face. Jake was glaring at him in a threatening matter. Cole was lying in the middle of the bed, all wrapped up in the giant comforter. Moose eyed Jake once, barked loudly, and then laid his head beside Cole. Cole pet his head and Moose wagged his tail. _

_Jake pouted when he saw me. "The dog stole my spot!" He whined. I set the glass and crackers on the nightstand. _

"_You can share my spot with me," I offered with a smile. He grinned and then stuck his tongue out at Moose. _

"_Ha! She's my woman, not yours, you human-stealer!" _

_Moose barked back. _

"_Shut up, Moose." Cole groaned. Moose fell silent and rested his face on his paws, looking ashamed of himself. He licked Cole as if to apologize. I grabbed my pajamas and changed quickly in the bathroom. I used the restroom while I was in there because I knew I wouldn't be getting up for another twelve hours. When I walked out of the small room in the giant bathroom that had the toilet, Jake was brushing his teeth. He was wearing a pair of pajama pants his mom got him for Christmas and I think that's the most I've ever seen him wear to bed. I washed my hands and face and brushed my teeth before climbing into my spot. Cole called me over and he cuddled up to me. His breath fanned out against my cheek as he finally fell asleep. Jake slid in beside me. He paused. _

"_I didn't imagine this quite so crowded." He whispered. We both looked pointedly at the humongous animal taking up half the bed. _

"_Why didn't you just get a toy poodle? Why'd you have to get a St. Bernard?" Jake complained. "One with a horrible ego and sense of self-entitlement, I might add." He grumbled. _

_I turned my head and kissed him. "It must have been because he reminded me so much of you." _

"_I'm better looking." _

"_I know." _

"_And I have thumbs." _

_I looked back over at him. He had his arms crossed over his chest and he looked insulted. Oh my God. He is really going to go over every reason he's better than Moose. _

"_I don't eat with just my face. I can talk. I—"_

_I rubbed a hand down his chest. "I got it, Jake. You're so much better than the dog. You're a million times better. Understood." _

_And from the other side of the bed, Moose growled lowly.

* * *

_

"What are you thinking about?"

I looked away from the TV screen and met Jake's eyes. We had woken up at nine AM and moved back to our room to prevent scarring of our son's mind. We both hadn't been able to fall asleep but Jake caught up on some TV (AKA watched himself on TV) and I pretended to be watching. But apparently Jake realized I wasn't paying attention. As much as I loved this movie—and not only because Jake was in it, it really _was _a great movie—I had seen it so many times I could quote everyone's lines, but especially Jake's because I had to practice them with him for months.

"Do you remember when Cole was six and he got the flu for the first time?" I pressed a hand to my stomach as a baby kicked. Jake kissed my neck. He rested a hand beside mine and another baby kicked.

"Yes. That was terrible. But luckily he was better the next morning." Jake held me closer.

"Unfortunately, you and Moose weren't on better terms that morning." I laughed. Jake laughed along and then sighed.

"I really miss that dog. I miss arguing with him and his furry face." He paused. "His furry face that so wasn't any better looking than mine."

"I miss him too," I whispered. I placed my hand on top of Jake's and traced imaginary designs on it. "I miss the way he protected Cole the most."

"He was a good dog." Jake admitted. I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. I said it for him.

"But you're a fantastic husband and father." He laughed and kissed me. I pulled away after a few moments and glanced at the clock. Eleven AM.

"We should probably get up and get dressed. It's okay if we have company today, right?" I longed to see everyone.

"Already called." He sounded proud of himself. "They're all coming for dinner."

I smiled widely and kissed him again. "Thank you." I don't think ever mentioned to him how much I missed everyone, and it really meant a lot to me that he had not only realized it, but went ahead and organized a time for them to come by.

"Just to warn you, my mom sounded like she was in a bitch mood. She started yelling at me for getting you pregnant with twins, as if it were my fault and I chose for the babies to be twins."

I hugged him. "Well, it would have been a great choice. Why is she angry it's twins?"

He shrugged. "Don't worry; I'm sure we'll find out tonight."

We laid there for a while longer. Near the end of the movie, Jake put the TV on mute. He turned on his side and pulled me to him. I pressed my face into his shoulder and inhaled the smell of the new soap he'd used this morning. He kissed my jaw and rested one hand on our babies. I let my eyes shut.

"How do you feel," He whispered, tracing my nose with his forefinger, "about happy endings?"

I breathed heavy air and let my eyes open. His eyes seemed brighter than usual.

"The same I feel about the Loch Ness Monster, or Santa Clause, or the Tooth Fairy. It's all such a good idea except for the fact it's impossible." His eyes dimmed a bit and I kissed his cheek. "But if there were such thing as a glorious castle made up of white, glossy baby teeth, I would want to live there with you."

He smiled and leaned his face against the top of my head. He stroked my leg.

"Don't be so morbid." His breath was warm against the crown of my head. He moved his hand up the back of my leg and stroked the small of my back. "Our happy ending is beginning. No one is going to take this ending away from you."

His words almost sounded like a threat.

* * *

**COLE's POV:**

I don't mean to brag, but my room is pretty much THE shit. It has everything. I guess I had forgotten how kick ass all my video games were, because I was up until six AM playing them. And I slept blissfully until three in the afternoon.

I woke up to hearing the waves and it cheered me up quite a lot. I had one thing on my mind as I looked through my drawers: beach. Who cares if it was late September? I'm hitting up the beach and if I have any luck Emily will come with me.

I put on my navy swim trunks and a gray t-shirt. I slipped on flip flops and prayed it was warm outside. Halfway down the stairs, I heard laughter. I felt like I was transported back to years before. Maybe everything really was going to be okay, because I'd never heard my mom laugh that happily since I was just a small child.

I found my parents in the kitchen. The first thing I noticed was that my mother's hair was back to the normal color again. I guess in the time I was sleeping she had dyed it. It gave her face color and she looked happier and healthier.

Dad was sitting on the counter while she cooked something. He smiled at me when I walked in and I smiled back. I couldn't repress an exasperation sigh, though. I didn't know any other father who sat on counters like a kid.

I hugged my mom and she seemed surprised. She hugged me back and did that thing where it takes her forever to let go. It was really hard to hug her because of the beach ball protruding out of her body. She wins longest hug giver, but my grandma wins biggest hug giver. That woman squeezes the life out of you. Especially when she's pissed off at you.

"Okay, you can let go of him, Mile." Dad teased. Mom let go of me and stepped back.

"Sorry." She apologized. "But I do have about five years of hugs to make up for."

It was the first time she'd ever mentioned what had happened in a light tone, and somehow it made the slight tension still between us disappear. I realized then that I fully accepted it and had forgiven her completely. Forgiveness is a good feeling.

"You can pay in a new car if you'd like." I joked. She went back to cooking whatever the hell was in the pot and Dad snorted.

"You wish. You can't even drive yet."

He would bring that up.

"But I will eventually." I reminded him.

"And eventually I'll be old." He swung his legs like a child.

"Sorry, pops, that's already happened." I said seriously. His legs fell still and he glared.

"Your girlfriends still hit on me. I'm not old." It was true. All of them (minus Emily, but that's because he's an uncle to her) got really annoyingly giggly around him.

"It's the fame, not the looks."

He narrowed his eyes at me and turned to Mom. "Miley!" he whined. "Tell Cole I'm the best looking man on Earth and I'm not old!"

"Your father is extremely gorgeous and not aging at all." She replied in a monotone voice. I laughed and Dad glared.

"You're just lucky you're a Ryan. You get to look like this well into your life." He smoothed a hand over his face. I was amazing looking and he's not old looking so I guess I am lucky.

He fell silent and started checking out my mother, which was so disturbing I don't think I'll be able to eat for a week. Parents shouldn't check out each other in front of their children.

"And you're lucky you have such a beautiful mother." He added.

"Please don't check her out in front of me." I grimaced. Mom spun around in embarrassment and surprise and my dad smiled at her in a not platonic way. Ugh. I snapped.

"Hey! Stop!"

He looked at me. He sighed. "You think you have it so bad. My parents used to make out in the hot tub in front of everyone."

Mom spun around again and laughed. "Alana and Jim?! No way! That's hilarious!"

Jake grimaced. "For you. Now you know why I got so grossed out when the doctor brought up my father asking that same question when he was there." Mom stared blankly at him for a long moment.

"Oh! You mean when we were at a checkup when I was pregnant with Cole and you asked about having—" She stopped suddenly and glanced at me. "—having…chocolate." She finished lamely.

Oh like that's a good cover. God they could at least be a little subtle. What is she cooking? It was starting to smell good.

"Wait—you saw all that growing up but you wanted me to give birth to Cole in a hot tub during a nacho party?"

"What?!" I exclaimed. What the fuck? He wanted her to give birth to me in a hot tub while there was a party there eating nachos…that would be a terrible way to come into the world!

"You never let me live that one down!" He jokingly glared at Mom. He turned to me. "I was naïve about childbirth then. You were my first kid after all. I thought it was just…pop!" He mimed holding a baby, "and then you have the baby. But it's actually a lot messier and not at all party appropriate…" his arms fell to his sides.

"You helped me pick out your name, you know." Mom said suddenly. She put a top on the pot and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

"How did I do that?" I asked.

She smiled. "I would say the names and judge by your kicks how much you liked them. Caden Cole won, obviously. Your dad was the one who picked it officially, though."

She walked over to the island and sat on one of the bar stools. From under her shirt I saw something move. HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE HELL?!

"Um…" I pointed. "Should you be able to see that?! That's really freaky."

Dad laughed and moved so he was sitting on the island countertop instead. Mom glanced down in worry and laughed also. She moved her hands off and Dad reached down and poked the side of her stomach. I looked cautiously, as if some sort of reptile/alien demon might burst out any minute.

"Was that a hand?" I asked in surprise. I looked closer, and sure enough, it was the outline of a small hand. That is actually pretty fucking cool…I wonder what it feels like…

I hesitated, with my hand outstretched. "Can I?"

"Of course."

I lightly touched the small hand and it retreated back. Her stomach felt weird. It was firm but squishy at the same time. Isn't there fluid in the womb? That must be what makes it squishy. Pregnancy is weird.

I spotted a foot and suddenly I felt sick. I pulled back and stood up. I avoided their eyes and tried to not let them know something was wrong.

I had killed that. There had been one of those inside Lila that was half me, something that would have had tiny hands and tiny feet to punch and kick, and I had killed it. I had paid for it to be killed.

They realized all the same though.

"Cole…" Mom started softly. Dad stopped her though. He seemed to realize I didn't want a heart to heart; I just wanted to forget it ever happened.

"What were you saying about Dad ultimately picking my name?" I changed the subject. Dad was the one who answered.

"After you were born, your mother died."

Mom sighed. "Don't make it sound so dramatic, Jake." She turned to me. "My heart stopped beating for a few seconds and they had to shock it back, but I was fine after that."

"That's technically dead." Dad muttered. Then his expression changed as if he hadn't realized that. "Oh my God! You died! You were almost dead for good!" He wrapped his arms around her. She rolled her eyes.

"When I woke up they gave me you. Jake had already named you while I was getting worked on by the doctors."

I had almost killed my mom. That's more guilt. After all she'd been through for me I'd treated her like shit. Guilt, guilt, guilt. I think the real reasons parents protect their kids from bad things is not only because they don't want them to get hurt, but because they don't want them to have to feel the guilt.

A timer went off and we all ate what Mom was making—it turned out to be delicious soup—and then I asked them about going to the beach with Emily.

"It's almost October." Mom replied when I asked.

"Please?" I begged. I knew she'd say yes though, if only because I was asking her permission. A few months earlier I would have just snuck out of my window and gone.

"Oh, okay. But don't come crying to me when you get a cold." She ran our dishes under the faucet and stuck them in the dish washer.

"He will." Dad laughed. Eh, he was probably right.

"Just be back by five. Everyone is coming over for dinner and you will be here." She added. Oh God. Everyone? Isn't my aunt pregnant too? It's going to be a pregnant convention!

I walked to Emily's house. It was only two blocks away. Her house was light blue and kind of small, but it was only Oliver and Emily so there's really no reason for all the extra room. My house has way too many rooms, but then again there were supposed to be two other children.

When I walked up to the front door, some douche was standing there. He had jet black hair and was very pale. I felt bad for him as I stood there in all my beach god glory. Blonde hair, tan skin, blue eyes…it's like I was made for California. Although I better not ever say that around my dad or he'll get offended again.

"And you are?" I bluntly asked. He stared straight forward.

"I'm here to see Emily." He answered confidently. I snorted.

"I'm sure you are." I rang the doorbell two times. Oliver looked up from the couch and glared at me. He went back to whatever he was typing on his laptop.

"Who are you?" He tried to mimic my demanding tone.

"Like you don't know who I am." I knocked impatiently.

I felt his eyes on me.

"Oh. Hannah Montana and Jake Ryan's son." He sounded sulky.

I think I'm going to go around and just knock on her bedroom window. Before I turned around I said one last thing.

"Yeah, but that's not what I meant. I'm Emily's boyfriend."

I turned and walked through the grass. I felt bad for him, but Emily is mine. Her window was looking out at the backyard. I eyed the old swing set we played on as kids and smiled. I knocked twice on her window, thankful that her house was one story.

"Password?" She called. I laughed and remembered how we used to guard the slide at school and tell kids they needed a password. I still remembered the password.

"Chocolate." I smiled as she opened the blinds and her window. She pushed the screen out and I climbed in.

Her room was lavender with white carpet. I nervously took my flip flops off in case I got mud on the carpet. Her furniture was white and her bed had a white silk blanket with lavender flowers sewn on it. The most prominent thing in her room was the humongous bookshelf that was filled with books. There were even some piled on the floor beside it that hadn't fit. I had forgotten she was a reader. Her ballet shoes were sitting on top of her desk and I eyed the perfume bottles sitting there. I wondered if any would smell familiar.

"Are we going swimming?" She asked. She sat on her bed. Soft music was coming from her stereo and she had a book lying face down on the bed. I eyed the spine. _The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon _by Stephen King.

"Any good?" I motioned toward the book. She nodded. Her hair was loose and the curls were extra spiral-y today. She had on pajama pants and a tank top and no makeup as usual. "I came to see if you wanted to go to the beach."

She smiled and took my hand. She pulled lightly on it and I sat down beside her. She hugged me and I hugged her back even tighter.

"It's almost October, Cade." She joked. I didn't know why she was using part of my first name, but I was glad she didn't say Caden because it made me think of Caitlyn. I shrugged.

"It's not too chilly out there, Eve." She stuck her tongue out at me. She held my hand in silence for a few moments.

"Did you ever realize how alike our initials are? I'm EEO and you're CCR. Double letters." That small voice in my head whispered, _they'll be even more alike when you marry me and become EER. _

Now the little demon voice is talking about MARRIAGE?! This is going too far. That voice needs to be silenced.

"So what do you say about the beach?"

"I say get out so I can get my bathing suit on." She playfully pushed me toward the window. I turned around and kissed her cheek.

"Oh, by the way, there's some guy just standing outside your front door for you. He looks kind of geeky. Pale, black hair…"

She grimaced. "Melvin. He thinks he's in love with me. It's a misconception."

Better be or Melvin is going to meet the ground.

"Sure is." I worked to keep my voice cheerful. I left her room to let her change. I sat on the swing and watched the clouds. It seemed to be five hours before she came out. She was wearing shorts and a tanktop over her bathing suit and Oliver was glaring at me. He stood with her at the backdoor and muttered something. She hugged him and skipped over to me, and Oliver watched us until we were out of sight.

"What beach access are we going to? Yours?" Emily pulled her hair up into a ponytail as we walked.

"No way. My dad's in a touchy-feeling mood and I don't want to watch him check out my mother any longer. We're going to the access down by Clearwood."

Emily giggled. "That's why I don't necessarily care that I was raised only by a father. Although Lila always told me that him and Claire do things…but I'm going to cheerfully ignore that and pretend they don't!"

The mention of Lila just kind of ruined my day. I was annoyed.

"Where is she anyway?" I reluctantly asked.

Emily laughed loudly. She spun around and then sped up so she was walking in front of me, but going backwards.

"I didn't tell you?! Oh, it's the best thing! She got sent to an all-girls Catholic boarding school! She has to wear jumpers and long khaki shirts and polo shirts! It's lights out at eight!" She laughed again and I laughed along. That is very funny. Go Claire. Lila will just turn bisexual though, if she isn't already.

We made it to Clearwood Access in less time than I expected. I could hear loud music and it sounded like everyone wasn't giving up their hangout spot just for autumn.

I tried to pick us a relatively private spot, but apparently I catch attention. Within three seconds of sitting down, I was ambushed. Literally.

Two guys tackled me and I got a mouthful of sand. Jackasses. I shoved them off and angrily stood up. Gavin and Michael, my best friends, climbed to their feet, grinning.

"Son of a bitch! Look who's showing his face in California again!" Gavin slung his arm around my shoulders and tightened his grip threateningly. "Care to tell us why you didn't text us back? We thought your mom sent you to some boot camp."

Michael grinned at the mention of my mother. I guess some things never change.

"Speaking of your mom, is she going to come down here? How is she?" I glared at him.

"Pregnant." I answered shortly.

He sighed. "One day it will be mine."

"Okay, look dude, you're one of my best friends, but you have got to get over this creepy obsession with my mother. It bothers me. A lot." I grimaced.

He shrugged. "You screwed my sister, all rules are gone now."

I flushed and shot a glance at Emily. She looked annoyed. Gavin and Michael looked at her also and I groaned. Bad idea. Michael whistled and Gavin raised his eyebrows at me.

"I see why you weren't answering our texts. Too busy with this nice looking piece of—"

"Girl. This nice looking girl's name is Emily Oken and she's my girlfriend." I replied. They exchanged looks and whistled.

"Someone is whipped."

"Happily." I smiled at Emily. She smiled back and took my hand.

"WOOT WOOT! RYAN BROUGHT HIS ASS HOME!"

Oh God.

Chris came up to us, carting a case of beer and two almost naked girls. Their bathing suits were practically not there. They hung all over him, giggling in his ear.

"Hi to you, too." I waved. He opened the beer case and pulled three out. He winked at Emily as he juggled them. He let them fall into the sand and he collapsed down beside them. He grabbed one and opened it, chugging down half of it. Gavin and Michael grabbed the others and I could tell Emily was uncomfortable.

"Who are your…friends?" I asked awkwardly. One of the girls was a beautiful red head who had a yellow bathing suit. Or…the remains of one. The other had black hair and a dark green "bathing suit".

Chris nodded at the red head. "This is Elaine." He drank some more beer. "And that's Sarah."

Elaine crawled into his lap and proceeded to attack his neck with her lips. Sarah sat and stared off into space dreamily. She giggled to herself every now and then.

"Look, I'll catch up with you guys later. I'm trying to talk to Em." I said firmly. The three boys exchanged glances. They raised their eyebrows.

"You know what that means…" Gavin trailed off.

"Yeah, it means see you later." I snapped. I didn't know why they were annoying me so much. They always acted like this. I guess it was just because I was ashamed to have friends like this and have them act so gross around Emily.

"Damn," Chris muttered. He pulled Elaine in his arms and stood up with her. Sarah grabbed the beer. "I don't know what happened to you wherever the hell you went, but you just think you're some hootie-tootie shit, don't you? Let's go."

He walked away with his girlfriends/prostitutes/whatever. Gavin and Michael lingered.

"See ya later, man." They nodded at me. At least they were real friends.

Once they were gone I turned to Emily.

"Sorry." I apologized. "They're kind of…crazy."

She sighed and leaned against my arm. "That's okay."

I ran my fingers through the hair in her ponytail. "Do you want me to make them apologize for almost calling you a nice looking piece of ass?"

She laughed softly. "No, that's okay."

We were interrupted, AGAIN, in the form of a high pitch sequel.

"EMILY!"

Emily jumped up and hugged some light brown headed chick. They laughed and hugged each other one more time. The girl's date nodded at me and I nodded back.

"Rose! How are you? How is dance?" Emily asked excitedly.

"Good, good! Everything is good! But how are you?! I haven't seen you for so long! Did everything work out alright with your great uncle Sam?"

Great uncle Sam? That was the best excuse Emily could come up with?

"Oh yeah! Uncle Sam got bypass surgery and everything worked out perfectly!"

Uncle Sam had a heart attack, apparently. Rose looked over Emily shoulder and met my eyes. She started that squealing and jumping thing again.

"YOU AND COLE RYAN?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?! SHUT UP YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING! OH MY GOD I AM SO GOING TO VIRGINIA!" She hugged Emily again. I was getting annoyed. Stop screaming and let go of my girl.

"Me?! What about you, Rose?! Who may this guy be?" She looked at the guy standing awkwardly beside Rose. He cleared his throat.

"I'm Jerry."

"ROSE! YOU'RE DATING JERRY! I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!" They hugged _again_.

They started talking and Jerry edged closer to me.

"So," he started, "do you play wiffle ball?"

I stared. What the hell?

"No. I'm an artist."

He rocked back nervously. "Oh."

"It's really great to see you, Rose, but can we catch up another time?" Emily asked. Thank God.

"Sure! I'll call you tonight." Rose promised. They hugged goodbye and Emily sat back down beside me. There was a pause.

"Okay, so maybe we don't have the same kind of friends." She laughed nervously.

"Not at all. But it's fine. Jerry and I definitely had some friend capability." I lied. All I have to do is learn to play wiffle ball…whatever that is…

"Oh, good!" Emily said excitedly. "We could double date!"

Or I could go to the hardware store, buy a box of nails and a knife, sharpen a nail, and drive it into my face!

No, Emily is worth it. She is. I'll just learn to play wiffle ball.

"Want to swim?" I asked. Emily nodded and I pulled my t-shirt off. When I looked up, Emily was already out of her tanktop and shorts. Oh how I love the beach. There is nothing quite like it.

Emily's body was perfect. Absolutely perfect. It was sexy and beautiful and impossible not to look at. I glared at all the guys appraising her as we walked down to the shore. I wrapped an arm around her waist to show them she's mine.

The water was cold as the waves crashed against my toes. I walked out until it was to my neck, avoiding shells. Emily swam beside me. It was up to her nose.

"The water isn't as cold as I thought." She muttered. The waves were terribly rough today and they kept crashing into my fucking face. I heard the roaring of a big wave and I grabbed Emily's waist as it crashed into the back of our heads. As I went under I got saltwater up my nose. I held onto Emily and pulled her up. We gasped as our heads came above the water. I shook my head and pinched my nose. Burning.

Emily spat. "Ew. Salt water in my mouth."

"Trying having it up your nose." I grimaced.

The sun was really hot on the top of my head and shoulders and I dunked my head again. I had missed this though. The sand beneath my feet, the warm, rocking water all around me…and Emily, the image of beauty, standing in front of me. I walked slowly over to her and wrapped my arms back around her.

"Can I kiss you?" I asked. She smiled.

"If you don't do it, I'm going to kiss you."

I pressed my lips to hers and it was the saltiest kiss I had ever had. A wave knocked into us and we got knocked apart and got pushed underwater. I fought to the surface. Emily was already up. She smiled at me and her eyes seemed to have stolen the sparkles right off the water's surface.

"Maybe we should try that again."

"Hey, I'll redo it as much as you want." I winked at her. She laughed and kissed me. There was nothing quite like her bare skin pressed against mine and the beautiful beach surrounding us.

And that damn voice undid the tape around its mouth.

_The honeymoon should be in Hawaii.

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_

**MILEY'S POV:**

The last of the food arrived minutes before five.

Because we had been gone for so long, we had no edible food available for me to use beyond canned stuff. I ordered takeout from a good Chinese restaurant instead.

I put the food in the middle of the dining room table. Jake had set the table a few minutes prior, so the only thing missing now was the family. I carefully dusted off the chandelier. I finished just as the doorbell rang.

I quickly stuffed the rag I was using behind a decorative plate sitting on top of a display table in the corner. I smoothed my shirt and fixed the elastic top to my jeans. I was just smoothing my hair when Jake hurried to the door.

"You look gorgeous, now help me greet!" He said impatiently.

"I look like Shamu." I grumbled as I walked to the door. I nervously rest my hands on my stomach as the babies kicked. They seemed to be just as nervous as I was.

"Don't worry, babies," Jake cooed. He leaned down and kissed the top of my stomach. Someone angrily rang the doorbell four times. "They will love you."

"Are they here?" Cole asked. He had just gotten home and I made him run upstairs and change into real clothes. He was wearing the button up shirt Alana got him. Smart boy.

Jake answered by opening the door. People streamed in and I kept my eyes peeled for one.

My daddy spotted me at the same time I spotted him. I hurried over to him. I threw my arms around him and he hugged me back. He smelled so familiar. He smelled like home. He patted my back.

"Look at you, Mile! You look beautiful. You've always been beautiful pregnant. Your mama was too." Dad whispered. He started to pull out of the hug but I clung tighter.

"I'm not done." I murmured. He laughed and I hugged him for a few more seconds before I finally moved back.

"I missed you so much, Daddy."

He kept an arm around my shoulders.

"I missed you too, bud. Look how happy you look! I am so glad you're happy again." He kissed my forehead.

"A lot has happened, but all of it worked for the best." I rested my hands on my stomach again.

"Looks like it!"

I spotted Lilly and Jackson. They were standing there, not looking very eager to be here.

"Be right back, Daddy." I whispered. I hurried over to Lilly and pulled her into a hug. I was surprised when she didn't hug back. I pulled away and looked her. She glared back at me. I looked at Jackson, but he studiously avoided my eyes.

"Lilly? What's wrong?" I asked.

"Don't even, Miley. I didn't even want to come today, but then I figured I could come and finally tell you how selfish you've been." She snapped.

I felt like my blood had turned to ice. I looked around. Everyone had fallen silent at Lilly's raised voice. I didn't want to fight with Lilly. I just wanted to hug her. I wanted to be her best friend, not her enemy. She wasn't pissed at me when we were emailing.

"What did I do?" I whispered. My hands tightened on my stomach, as if I subconsciously felt like I was threatened. Maybe I did. Her glare was so fierce.

"You got married and decided that the only thing that matters is you and Jake. Or, I guess Cole matters now. He didn't before though, but he's obviously forgiven you. You never emailed me back, Miley. I emailed you forty times. I thought something terrible happened to you. Then I get a call from Jake, and you're back in Malibu? Am I not worth a phone call? How hard is to pick up the phone and call me and say you're okay, or to actually email me back! I understand you need attention, but I was freaking out!"

"You don't understand, Lilly." I begged. "Luke moved into the apartment with me. I didn't think I could even use the computer, and when I realized I could, I was too frantic to read the unread messages! His wife was with Oliver and Cole and Emily and was threatening to kill Cole, Lilly! What did you expect me to do?!"

She exploded.

"That's fucking bullshit, Miley! Luke is dead! We all saw him lying there dead! You are just a psychotic bitch who always needs attention! You need people to feel sorry for you and you need to be the victim! Do you know that none of us actually believed you were really pregnant?! I still don't know if I believe it! For all I know you bought a fake stomach and you'll pretend to go have the baby and then pretend it died just so you have an excuse to be a wreck again!"

Finding out that your loved ones have been talking bad about you is a terrible feeling. It's a bit like having your insides soaked in ice water. Her words shook me.

"IT IS TOO TRUE!" Cole screamed in anger. "I was there! I know! Dad was there, he can tell you! Emily can tell you! You don't even know what you're talking about so maybe you should just keep your mouth shut!"

Lilly's words kept playing through my mind and my anger spiked. I pulled my hand out of Jake's and pulled my shirt up over my stomach. I grabbed Lilly's hand and set it on it.

"Is that a fake stomach, Lilly?!" The babies seemed to be kicking angrily. She yanked her hand off and seethed. "It sure as hell is not! I didn't fucking make up anything, okay? He is really alive!"

"How?" She demanded. "How is he alive when we all saw him dead?"

"I DON'T KNOW, LILLY! I don't know! I just know he is! He was there with Jake and me! Why don't you believe me?"

Jake glared.

"Everyone needs to slow down until they actually hear the whole story. This is getting out of hand." He told the story quickly and accurately and Cole backed him up every few words.

When he finished I was surprised to see the anger still hadn't melted off her face.

"So you were safe with Oliver for two days? You could have called me then, Miley! You had an opportunity, didn't you?!"

I couldn't speak.

"Of course you did! The fact is, you just don't care enough about me anymore and I care way too much about you. You finally got what you wanted, Miley. You have babies, you have a good relationship with Cole, and Jake still loves you. You don't need me. And guess what? I don't need you either. Everything has been fine without you here. Everything has worked out for me. I got through a breakup with you. Your brother asked me out and we got together without you having anything to do with it. You could go away right now and it wouldn't make any difference! Now we feel the same about each other."

She started toward the door. I grabbed her wrist. I heard everyone leave to give us privacy to work things out. Everyone except Jake, of course. He stood nervously at the mouth of the foyer, unsure if he should interfere or not.

"That isn't how I feel about you, Lilly! I love you! But you have no idea what it's like! You expect me to remember to call everyone I love when my son's life, my husband's life, and my unborn babies' lives were on the line?! Once we were free I could only think of making sure they were safe and cherishing the fact that they were! Please don't do this, Lilly." I begged.

She stopped pulling against my grip. She looked me in the eyes and she looked lost.

"I don't know who you are anymore, Miley. I don't know what to believe. I don't know if you're some psychopath or if you're really telling me the truth."

"Why would I pretend that bastard was back, Lilly?! Why would I do that? HE RUINED MY LIFE!" I wiped tears off my face.

"Because you need the attention!" She yelled back.

"He raped me, Lilly." I gasped as I tried to find the words when there were none. "He threatened to cut open my stomach, pull out my unborn babies, and slice their throats in front of me! He threatened to murder my son! He threatened to kill Jake! Why would I want him back? I already get more attention than anyone could need so I hope you have a hell of another reason!"

She stood there and her eyes searched my face. After almost thirty seconds she embraced me.

"I don't want to lose my best friend again." She whispered. "But I need to know you're being one hundred percent honest with me."

I pulled back and looked her in the eye. "I swear."

I could tell she still had doubts, and anger. Most likely the only reason she had stopped fighting so suddenly was because when she studied my face she had found enough familiar things.

She didn't apologize, which made me sure she was still a little upset with me. But she walked into the dining room with me and told everyone we worked everything out. I couldn't meet Alana's eyes, though. Had she been one of the ones who also didn't I was really pregnant? Judging by the looks Jake and her were exchanging, she wasn't very happy with either of us.

I sat down beside Jake. He took my hand under the table and I leaned my head against his shoulder. I looked at everyone and took a tally.

Jim, my dad, Cole, and Jake didn't appear angry at me.

Alana and Jackson looked pissed and Lilly looked caught in the middle.

"How far along are you, Miley?" Jim asked. He dug into the food.

"Just about eight months." I replied. He whistled.

"You're almost there. Are you having a c-section? That's what Alana had with our twins."

I nodded.

"When are you scheduled to go in?"

"My doctor in New York had me scheduled for November eleventh, but I still have to see one here. They may schedule me for different time."

I looked around the table.

"Where are Lana and Joe?" I asked.

"Lana is past her due date, so she's sticking at home. She's afraid she'll go into labor in the car." Jim laughed.

It was a legitimate fear.

"So, Cole," Alana spoke for the first time, "how do you feel about having two little sisters?"

Cole smiled. "It sounds…exciting."

She stabbed at her plate. "Don't you think it's a little weird that she's pregnant with twin girls?"

Cole stared evenly at her. "Do you think it's weird _you _were pregnant with twin girls?"

Jake choked on his drink. I hit his back and he laughed as he coughed.

Alana didn't even fluster. "No. Because I didn't have two other babies that didn't make it. It seems a little fishy to me."

Cole smiled at me. "It seems like fate to me."

I smiled back and Alana glared at him too. She was probably deciding he was just as bad as her good for nothing daughter-in-law. Some days she loved me, and others she despised me. But only when she thought I was making Jake do something she didn't agree with.

I realized suddenly why she was angry. She thought I had convinced Jake to let me make a designer baby. She thought we did in vitro fertilization and I had paid to have the genes made where it was two girls inside of me, to make up for the two I had lost. Alana was avidly against designer babies. She claimed it was playing God.

"You think we designed these babies!" I exclaimed in shock. She glared at me.

"There is no we in this. My son would have never done that if it weren't for you."

I gaped. "No! We didn't do that, Alana! I promise!"

"She's telling the truth." Jake muttered around his rice. "I can even tell you the day those babies were conceived! See, I saved her eyes from being burned out from face wash, and then we were just going to shower together, but well…things got a little carried away and we had good, natural sex! It's really great in the shower if you know what you're doing. We weren't even trying to conceive, we were just having fun!"

I smacked my forehead. That man needs to learn what to admit to a table and what not to. Jackson, Cole, and my dad pushed their plates away from them. They looked kind of green.

My face was probably one hundred and fifty degrees. Alana's jaw dropped during Jake's speech.

"Jake?" I hissed. He looked at me.

"Yes?"

I smacked his leg.

"OW!"

"That isn't something you tell to the whole family!" I glared.

"My mom won't let it go unless I make the topic so uncomfortable for her that she doesn't want to push it any further." He whispered. I looked up and sure enough Alana looked like she was going to change the subject.

"So are we cool?" I nervously joked.

She looked awkwardly away and nodded quickly.

"If you still don't believe me I'm sure I can't find a way to prov—"

Alana cut Jake off.

"NO. No, that's okay. I believe you. That was my mistake. My complete mistake. Let's forget that ever happened, okay?! I'm so happy for you two and I can't wait until the babies are born! I'm going to start shopping tomorrow!"

She shoveled food into her mouth to keep from having to talk to anyone.

"I'm never going to be able to walk into your bathroom again," Cole grimaced. Lilly sympathetically patted his shoulder.

I spent the rest of dinner studiously avoiding everyone's eyes. I tried to hold my bladder for as long as I could—standing up would cause people to remember I was here and I was trying very hard to disappear—but I finally couldn't hold it a moment longer. I jumped out of my chair and hurried out of the room. I went to the bathroom closest to the dining room. The door was cracked and I pushed it open.

And then screamed.

Jackson was standing in front of the toilet, peeing. I quickly shut the door back. But not before something registered in my mind. I cracked the door and peeked in, keeping my eyes on his face.

"Jackson? What the…are you…brushing your teeth?!"

He flushed and zipped his pants up. He grabbed the toothbrush again and kept scrubbing.

"Yep."

"While you were…peeing?" I gagged.

He nodded. I looked closer at the toothbrush.

"IS THAT MY TOOTHBRUSH?!" I gasped.

He pulled it out and looked at it. He shook his head. He spit and rinsed before he answered.

"I found this under the sink. I haven't used your toothbrush since you married pretty boy, and as he admitted to the whole dining room table, for good reasons! No telling what you put in your mouth before the toothbrush." He gagged.

I narrowed my eyes.

"Who said you only needed to worry about that once I got married?" I challenged. He eyed me, deadpanned. I raised an eyebrow. He choked and turned the faucet on. He put his mouth under the spray and tried to wash his mouth out.

"OH MY GOD!" He screamed in disgust.

I was overcome by memories. I ran over and wrapped my arms around his waist.

"I missed you so much, Jackson! I love you!" He jerked out of my grip.

"Nuh uh! No telling where those hands have been!"

He twitched.

"God, Jackson, I was just kidding."

"Oh!" He relaxed. I hugged him again and he hugged me back.

"So you aren't mad at me anymore?" I asked. He looked surprised.

"Mad at you? I was never mad at you. I was mad at pretty boy. I'm even madder now. I really wanted to eat that Chinese but now all I want is to puke." He sighed.

"I'll send some home with you. You can eat it tomorrow." I amended.

He sighed heavily. "Okay. But if he mentions one more thing about your sex life I'm going to murder him."

I laughed and then realized I was about to pee myself, seriously.

"Uhh, Jackson?" I asked.

"Hmm?"

"I need you to leave because I'm about to wet my pants."

He hurried out of the room and I went to the restroom long enough to take like four pregnancy tests. The babies were resting on my bladder and I drank a lot of water these days.

I washed my hands and when I got back to the table everyone had given up on dinner except Jake. He was sitting alone at the table, cheerfully working on his plate.

"You see, Jake? This is why we don't talk about having sex in the shower in public." I pointed at the full plates.

"I have a perfectly fine appetite. More for me!"

"Where did everyone go?" I asked.

"Lana called. She's in labor. They went to the hospital. Well, Cole didn't."

I jumped. "What?! We have to go!" I excitedly headed toward the door. Jake stood up and shook his head.

"No way! You're supposed to be on bed rest, remember? You don't want to go into early labor, do you?"

I frowned. "I don't get to see the baby?"

"Of course. But I don't want you sitting in those hard chairs for hours while she's in labor. My sister said she'd call me as soon as the baby landed and was ready for visitors."

Landed? Only he could compare the birth of a child to a plane landing.

I sighed and trudged to the living room. He was right. All the panic and drama from the past few weeks had made me forget that I should be staying off my feet.

I sat beside Cole on the couch.

"Sorry for your Dad's…outburst at dinner." I apologized.

Cole sighed. "I was trying to forget about that."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's okay." He smiled at me. It warmed my heart.

"Thank you for standing up for me at dinner."

"No problem. Grandma is all talk and no walk. You just have to show her you aren't scared." I snorted and leaned back against the couch. I rest my hand on my stomach and closed my eyes and it easily could have been eight years ago, if it weren't for one little thing.

I was happier.


	44. Paint

**A/n: **Thank you to everyone who took the time to share their thoughts on the last chapter. Without you (All-American Dork06, hanfan89, imaginationiskey, OhSoCaliXoX, nysunsetangel, daisy617, SVUlover is too lazy to log in, reaa1210, BeautifulxxDisasterx) this chapter wouldn't be here. And special thanks to BeautifulxxDisasterx who wrote a review so epically amazing that my jaw dropped :) ily, Lani. Thanks to my betas, also :) I hope you all enjoy this chapter and if you have the time, there is a poll on my profile and I would appreciate it if you would take a few seconds to leave your opinion :D

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**"Holding you holds me together." -- Gretchen Wilson, "Holdin' You".

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**

**"We're getting stronger now  
Found things they never found  
They might be bigger  
But we're faster and never scared" **

**-- Taylor Swift, "Change".

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**

**Jake's POV:**

"This is the perfect color!"

I smiled and turned away from the doorway. Miley excitedly stuck the roller in the paint again and rolled another section of the wall. The paint was a soft, glowing pink color. It was perfect for the babies' bedroom. We started painting a few hours ago and we already had two walls done. I was supposed to be pushing this couch out of the room but I was suddenly overwhelmed with happiness and love. I crossed the room and the drop cloth made whispering noises as I walked over it. She looked up and offered me a smile so bright it set my heart on fire. She was so beautiful. I pulled the roller out of her hands and pulled her into my arms. She did the thing I love so much where she seems to melt. She leans into my embrace and seems to relax every part of her body, as if just my touch made everything so much better. She exhaled like this was what she had been waiting for. I tightened my embrace. What would I do without this?

Our babies started kicking and I pulled back. I pressed my lips to hers and set a hand on her round stomach. I pushed the shirt up and set my hand on the smooth skin. I stroked lightly and thought about how much I loved what was inside of there, and as they always did, the babies fell still. She broke the kiss for oxygen then. I could breathe off her.

She rested her head on my shoulder and I breathed her in. How could anyone ever hurt her? She kissed my neck and I felt her smile against my skin. It felt so good to feel her smile again. I moved my hands off her stomach and pushed them up the back of her shirt. The soft skin on her back was the nicest thing to touch. My fingers brushed up her spine and over a spot her stitches were and a violently sick feeling stabbed at the pit of my stomach. Hatred, anger. I didn't want to think about how she had been hurt. I just wanted to take her into the bedroom and hold her and touch her and be thankful for the time I have now. I think she gets the feeling what happened with that man made me find her less attractive. She's crazy if she really believes that. I don't see how anyone could find her unattractive. Even with her stomach swollen she looks just as beautiful and sexy as ever. She makes a big deal about scars, but she doesn't have as many as she thinks she does. There's just something so gorgeous about my children inside of her that I can't keep my eyes or hands off her (but when could I ever?). Besides, I was a leg man and her legs looked just as good no matter what state her uterus was in. I think her basis on the whole unattractive thing comes from the fact she thinks if another man…touched her (why was that so painful to think about still?) it made her less appealing. The fact she was raped never changed the beauty she has. It just makes me sad and angry. She's handling it. Why can't I? I guess it's easier to handle someone hurting you than it is to handle someone hurting the person you love.

I didn't want to let go of her. It was like giving up the last piece of chocolate cake so it can just sit on the counter. No! Steak. Steak sounds better than chocolate cake right now. Oh how I want some steak.

"Come lay down with me." I found myself requesting. My heart spoke before my head most of the time. We were supposed to be finishing up the nursery. We were turning the lounge into the babies' room because it was right down the hall from us. I was in the process of moving one of the couches out. We were leaving one of them in there. The last time I was in this room I was explaining what happened to Miley to our family.

I pressed my face into her hair and felt like love was coursing through my veins. I love her. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

She laughed a laugh so beautiful it could be music.

"We're supposed to be painting, remember?" She whispered. _I'd rather paint you into my memory, just like this, _I thought to myself. It seemed all the time in the world wasn't enough time with her. I stroked her spine again, this time only thinking of beautiful memories.

"A little break won't hurt."

She smiled again and kissed me.

"I guess not."

Never mind the fact we had only done two walls. I let my hands drop and I stepped back from her. I immediately felt longing to have her back. It was just wrong for delicious steak to sit uneaten on the counter.

The short walk to the bedroom was too long. I laid down beside her and pulled her back in my arms where she always belonged.

"Have you talked to Lilly lately?" I asked. I wanted to know that they had worked thing out. I wanted to know Miley was happy.

She ran her fingers through my hair slowly and there was nothing quite like her touch. A small flame of the anger rekindled inside me and I thought of that man restraining her beautiful hands. I thought about his hands on her—No. I have to wait. I have to control my anger until I can find him. I will find him. He's alive and I'm going to be the one to beat him until he bleeds out of every surface. I'm going to be the one to slice him open with a knife. I'm going to be the one to murder him the way he tried to murder her. But he didn't succeed, and that is what makes him the biggest idiot. He couldn't kill someone so strong. I let my hand trace down to her hip and then to her thigh. Every part of her was mine. Every inch. Who did he think he was? I'm Jake fucking Ryan and Miley Ryan is mine. Everyone knows it. I'm the one who loves her more than anything else. I'm the one she loves back. I'm the one who married her. How dare he try to touch her as if she were his. I could still hear her slurred voice in my head as she retold her story and I could feel her tears as she cried against me. It's going to be a terrible fucking day for Luke when I find him. Did he honestly think I would just let him get away with raping and scarring my wife? Somehow, after the babies are born, and everyone is safe, I'm going to find him. And it's going to be just me and him. He won't have the lives of my children or my wife to threaten me with. He will see what happens when you try to destroy a half of someone.

"Not since last night when we kind of made up." She paused. "What is wrong?" She demanded. She gently took my face in her hands and pulled it off her. She looked me in the eye and I quickly hid my emotions. I didn't want her to know I was still so upset over what happened. I wanted her to stay happy. I wanted her to believe everything was perfect. I don't want her to have to know how her words haunt me. Acting was so hard around her though. The clear, stunning shade of blue in her eyes seemed to reach into me and yank out the truth.

"I just missed this so much," I whispered. It was partly true. I did miss this. I missed her being so happy. Having her happy made me extremely happy. Having these unborn children healthy inside of her made me extremely happy. But Luke being alive did not. I hoped I was hiding my discontent from her. I hoped she never noticed. I wanted her to believe with all her beautiful heart that I was just as happy as she was. It's just, even though he's far away, his life is a threat. Just having him inhale oxygen scares the shit out of me. She's just now recovering. Sure she cries a little bit in her sleep every night, but now all it takes to calm her is my touch. I don't want all this recovery to be set back. I don't want him to make her hurt one more fucking minute of her life. I don't think I could stand it if he found her. He would torture her. How could that be the last thing I ever saw, or the last thing she ever felt? I wanted the last thing I ever saw to be her face, and I wanted the last thing she ever felt to be my touch.

I kissed her shoulder and her skin tasted of love and memories. It was tastier than steak, believe it or not. She grabbed my hand suddenly and placed it on her stomach. Soft bumps that I knew were much more painful to Miley greeted me. I loved to feel them kick, but I didn't like for them to hurt her. It made me feel guilty. She was bearing my children, after all. Whatever pain they caused her I felt bad for.

"I missed _this,_" She touched my hand that was resting on the bumps our unborn children were making. She pulled her hand off her stomach and touched my face. Her eyes were so truthful that it made me fall in love with her all over again. She traced my lips and I kissed her hand. "I missed _this_." She whispered. She smiled suddenly and it broke the seriousness. She kissed me twice. "But, let me tell you, I didn't miss the aching feet or sore back."

It was easy to forget that the pregnancy was painful because she made it look so beautiful. I knew her back must be hurting though. It wasn't used to carrying around the extra weight of two other humans. I tried to tell her not to help paint but she had insisted. Maybe I should beg her not to.

"Do you want a massage?" I kissed her wrist and her eyes smiled.

"No, it's fine. It doesn't hurt that badly." She was lying. When she lied her eyes stayed on mine throughout the whole statement, but at the end she glanced at something else. I don't think she even knew she did it. There are a lot of things I don't think she knows about herself.

She obviously didn't realize that I _wanted _to give her a massage. I wasn't asking just to be nice. It would ease my guilt and I love touching her. Everyone who's been in love knows that nothing feels as marvelous as making the person you love feel good.

"Sure it doesn't. Sit up." I hide a smile as she quickly sat up.

"Well, I mean, if you insist." She joked, cheerfully. She crossed her legs and I moved behind her. I didn't like not being able to see her face but I could see the rise and fall of her breathing. I pushed her shirt up to expose her back. As weird and sexual as it may sound, I like undressing her. It goes farther than the sexual part of it, though. It's like unveiling a secret that only we know. I love taking the time to unwrap a valuable, breathtaking present that is just for me and is only seen by two people: the person giving it to me, and myself. _It used to be just between you two, _I thought, _now it's between you two and that jerk that ripped her clothes off her like she was a cheap, unwanted present. _It's one thing to steal a present from the person who's supposed to receive it, but it's quite another to steal it from the person who gives it out. And it's in a completely different league to not only steal it but abuse it.

I pushed all the unpleasant thoughts about that…that…(why was it so hard to think of a word mean enough?) Luke out of my mind. I guess the worst insult I could ever come up with is Luke. I am going to give my girl a massage to help with the pain my unborn children caused, and I am not going to think about that monster. But I broke my own statement as soon as she grabbed my hand. She rested my hand on the side of her stomach. Very powerful kicks made me smile.

"I've never felt Adeline kick so hard!" Her voice was bursting with pride. I focused the love in my heart at that small child—my tiny daughter who I knew was going to be so much like Miley already—and her kicks fell softer and softer until they stopped completely. No one could imagine the relief I felt when Miley sent me that email telling me the babies were mine. The idea of that man not only taking her but putting his child inside of her made me so sick that I threw up later that night. He can't make a child with her. The only person that can create a child within her is me, and the only child she can carry is mine. At least, I had thought that until she told me she was pregnant with his child. And I was glad when she said she was going to get an abortion. That sounds terrible because the unborn baby would have been half the woman I love, but seeing another man's child grow inside of her…that would have been unbearable. To see her stomach swell with his spawn would have been the cruelest of punishments. But this? This is the greatest reward. I get my wife and two daughters that are mine. I can't help but wonder what the catch is. I realized the answer as soon as I thought the question. The catch is that I won't be able to rest until I torture the man who hurt her.

I shook my head and focused on what was most important. She offered me a smile and I smoothed my hands down her back. This was so familiar that it helped soothe my anger. She turned her head back around so she was facing forward and I kissed her shoulder blade, right over where she had stitches. She should have been with me that day. Instead of being held down in a van she should have been in this bed with me. Instead of being cut here she should have been kissed here. Instead of being forced to do something she didn't want to do she should have been here, making love with me because she loves me and I love her. If only things had turned out differently. If only.

I massaged her lower back and listened to her breathe. Happiness was when she sighed in pleasure and relief. I could spend the rest of my life like this. I was content now, with her skin beneath my fingers and her happiness surrounding me like air. I moved my hands up, following her spine like a river. If I were lost in the woods this would be the river I would wish to follow because I knew it would always lead me home. I kissed the back of her head.

"Better?" I mumbled again her hair. It smelled so good. I moved my face and she turned around. She kissed me with a kiss so full of emotions it startled me. At least I could be a good husband by loving her more than life itself. If I couldn't be good at protecting her at least I could be amazing at loving her and providing for her.

I took one look at her face and knew that from the very first moment I laid eyes on her, all the other girls who were in love with the sexy Jake Ryan were out of luck. Some days I thought we were only together because of what we had gone through, but then there were days like this where I knew that we would have ended up together somehow.

"Thank you," She whispered. I smiled at her and kissed her.

"It's the least I could do."

The most would be hunting down that piece of slime and murdering him.

She melted into my arms again and my heart melted along with her.

"We should probably go finish painting the room." She whispered.

The sooner we finished the sooner I could have her back in my arms again.

"Why don't I run and go buy the furniture and Cole can help you paint? He's the artist, anyway." I'll have to tell him to make sure she doesn't lift anything heavy.

She nodded. "That sounds good."

I sighed. I didn't want to leave.

"Are you sure you don't want a foot massage?"

She laughed. She playfully pushed me.

"Get out of here before I chain you to the bed and make you my massage slave!"

That does not sound bad at all. I like that idea.

"Hey, that'd be okay with me." I grinned.

She sighed and stuck her hands up my shirt. She had this way of slowly stroking her hands up my chest that drove me nuts. If she wants me to motivate her to leave the bedroom this is definitely not the way.

"I know it would be," She whispered. "And that's why we should leave now, before we're stuck in here forever."

"Once again—that'd be great with me." I struggled out.

She rested her hands on my abs and kissed me deeply. She dramatically tore herself away from me and stood up from the bed. She threw her hands in the air in false victory.

"I DID IT!" She exclaimed. I grinned and snaked my arms around her legs. I pulled her down in my lap.

"You were saying?" I whispered.

She looked at me seriously. "That Jake Ryan is a sex god and I never want to leave this bed." She leaned dramatically against me. "You rescued me!"

Did I ever mention how smart she is? I'm definitely a sex god. It's just synonymous with my name.

"Uh huh, it sure didn't sound like that. It sounded to me like you were trying to escape."

She gasped. "Never. Not even if the house caught fire."

She giggled and I hugged her tightly once before letting her go. Every day with her was an adventure. The next chapter? Baby furniture shopping.

I could only pray there were many chapters to come for us.

* * *

**COLE'S POV:**

I set down the book as someone knocked on my door. A minute later the door opened and I wondered what ever happened to me giving my permission.

My dad walked in, looking cheerful as usual, and he raised his eyebrows when he saw the book. Oh God. Welcome in, torment!

"Are you…reading?" He seemed baffled by the word. Hmph. Just because he never reads anything but scripts doesn't mean it's weird to read books. Besides, this was one of Emily's favorite books, which made it a lot better.

"No. I'm looking at the nonexistent pictures." I rolled my eyes. He walked farther in the room and picked up the book. He eyed the title with a curious expression, but lost that expression when he skimmed a page.

"Feeling ambitious? That's one of those college books." He glanced around the room—probably looking for hidden girls because the odds of me reading were slight, while the odds of me reading to give a girl time to escape were higher—and walked toward the painting section of the room. He looked at a scenic picture and one of Emily, the one I had sketched a long time ago. I felt like an idiot when I searched his face for some kind of pride or approval. I found both.

He turned back around.

"I have to go and buy furniture for the nursery. While I'm gone, go downstairs and help your mother paint the nursery. And make sure she doesn't lift anything larger or heavier than your head."

I sat up quickly. "Whoa, painting the nursery? You should have asked me about that before because I already invited Emily over."

He shrugged. "Ask if she'd like to help. I need you to help her, Cole, okay? You aren't going to be very happy if she goes in labor while I'm gone, are you? Because lifting things too heavy could knock her into labor and if an ambulance doesn't get here in time guess who would have to help her give birth." He pointed at me. I shuddered. Emily would want to help anyway.

"Okay. I'll help. What color are you painting it?" They should do a nice periwinkle blue.

"A soft pink. But you know what? Bring some of your paints because I bet your mother would love it if you painted something on the wall."

That sparked my interest. I always wanted to paint a whole wall but never had the chance. This was going to be fun after all.

"Okay. Oh, and Dad, don't get that new crib by the ScissorStand company. I read it's a death trap. There was a segment on the news about how it killed a baby and hurt others."

The news disturbed him. He made a pained face.

"Thanks. But now I'm going to be worried every crib I look at is secretly a death trap in disguise."

I rolled my eyes. "Just get a handmade, wooden one. That should be trust worthy enough."

He nodded. "Handmade wooden." He mumbled to himself. He nodded again. "Okay, I'm going now. Change into something paint appropriate and go ahead and go downstairs." He started toward the door but then stopped. He turned around, slower this time. "If anything odd happens, anything suspicious…just call me, alright? I don't care if it's something as small as one of the windows creaking in the wind. Make sure you call me. Got that?"

"Yup."

God, he's almost as paranoid as Mom. I have the craziest family on Earth. About ten minutes after Dad left and after I had gotten all my paints and paintbrushes together, the door opened as I was stripping out of my shirt and searching my drawers for a different one. I spun around and Emily stood in my doorway, looking mortified. She edged back.

"Sorry! I…I should have knocked, right?"

I didn't really care if she saw me changing my clothes, but her face seemed so embarrassed it made me feel bad. I should have changed in the bathroom or locked the door so she wouldn't be embarrassed.

"It's fine. You can come in. I was just changing my shirt because my dad is making me help my mom paint the nursery. Is that okay with you?"

Her embarrassment seemed to fade a bit and she walked fully in the room. She shut the door and sat on my bed. She was wearing a pair of nice jeans and a pretty shirt with beads on it. The jeans made her legs look so good it was hard looking away. Her outfit definitely wasn't for getting painted on.

"That sounds fun!" She exclaimed excitedly. She sounded like she really meant it. "But I really shouldn't paint with these clothes on."

I had a whole drawer dedicated to clothes to wear when painting—because I did a lot of it—but my mom was trying to be helpful and she put away all my clothes in the wrong spots. For some reason there are boxers in here with the paint clothes. Not cool. I finally pushed them over enough to see the shirts and shorts and sweatpants that were already stained with paint of various colors. I pulled out two shirts and two pairs of sweatpants. It was too cold in this house to wear shorts. Dad said pregnancy made you feel hotter, which was probably why Mom had attacked the thermostat and turned it down to sixty-eight.

I tossed a shirt and pair of pants at Emily and she caught them in surprise. Her beautiful eyes widened and I resisted the urge to laugh.

"Those clothes were bought for getting painted on. You can change in the bathroom." Although she could change in here if she wanted. I wouldn't complain.

She started to pull of her shirt and my heart starting pounding. Was she really going to strip right in my bedroom?? But she had a black tanktop on under the beaded shirt. She folded the beaded shirt nicely and set it on my bed. Her hair was so long now it touched her elbows when she walked.

She disappeared into the bathroom and I finished changing quickly. I hadn't even had time to cool down when she came out of the bathroom. I hadn't expected her being in my clothes to be so…sexy. How could that be even sexier than clothes that fit her? Oh my God, I don't have a thing for cross dressers do I?! But she gave me a shy smile and I understood. I just liked seeing a part of me on her. Is it creepy that I was hoping the clothes smelled of her once she took them off? If it is just pretend I never thought that.

I hugged her and I liked that she smelled of my house. It's further proof that she belongs here, with me. I broke the hug and she handed me a smile so beautiful I felt shaky. I thought about when we tried to use mud to make clay sculptures, and when we caught caterpillars and she cried when hers transformed into a butterfly and flew away. I thought about how we buried a shoebox in her backyard with things that meant something to us in it. I thought about the day Bell died and how Emily hugged me for ten minutes and let me cry into her curls. I thought about how we used to watch movies so funny we laughed until our stomachs hurt. But most of all I thought about how most my memories involve her in some way. And I wanted it to always be that way.

When we entered the lounge, I was surprised. My mom had almost three walls painted. The color was pretty. Maybe I could paint their names over the cribs. Yes, I could see it now. The letters should be made of vines with roses and daises growing on them. And under the names there should be green, green grass and tall sunflowers with tiny ladybugs on the petals. Did I bring the fan paintbrush? I'd need that if I was going to make the grass. I spotted it in my bag. I could use a rigger brush to make the vines and flowers and a Filbert brush for the tall sunflower.

"Oh, thank God!" Mom exclaimed when she spotted me. She set the roller down and sighed. When she turned around I resisted the urge to laugh. Where she had been painting, her stomach had completely wiped away all the paint on that one spot.

"I've been working hard on this. I think it actually turned out pretty good!" She rested her hands on her hips and smiled with pride at her work. I bit my lip and Emily giggled quietly beside me.

"Umm…Miley?" She pointed at the round spot. Mom turned around and sighed.

"Not again!"

She grabbed the roller and started painting over it. I moved more into the room and set my bag on the couch. One name over each of their cribs. I just had to ask Mom where the cribs were going.

"Where are you going to put the cribs?" I asked. She set the roller back in the paint and looked around the room. Emily stuck a new roller in the paint and started on another wall.

"One on this wall," She pointed at the wall the doorway was in. "And one on that wall." She pointed at the left wall.

The room was a decent sized square room. The wall across from the doorway had a large window right in the middle of it. The right wall had a sofa in front of it (I guessed they'd moved it away from the wall so they could paint). I turned. She'd motioned to the middle of the wall that the doorway was on for one of the cribs. I assumed they'd get one of those corner changing tables and then put the other crib in the middle of the left wall.

I explained what I wanted to paint, and she was really excited. Emily said she would help my mom finish doing the pink on the other wall. The walls that were already painted and dry were the ones I was going to paint on, so I could go ahead and start.

I was unloading my tools when Emily made a hesitant sound. I turned around and my insane mother was pulling a fucking ladder into the room. I gaped.

"Should she be doing that?" Emily asked me. I hurried over and pulled the ladder out of her arms.

"Dad told me you can't lift anything bigger than my head." She sighed. She set two hands on her stomach, over her painted shirt.

"Well, it's a good thing he didn't say I couldn't lift anything bigger than _his _head. Then I could have lifted this ladder." She joked. Emily laughed and the sound was perfect.

Mom turned on a radio and sang along with every country song that she heard. Emily and I shared glances every now and then and just having her in the room made me want to paint better than I ever did before. She inspired me. I found a chocolate brown the same shade as her eyes and I used it to paint the middle of the sunflower.

I worked quietly, thinking about different things. Emily talked to my mom and didn't seem bothered by my silence. I was glad she understood that I liked to do my art with all my focus on that. I never have liked to talk while I was working. Of course, what she didn't know is that she was the only thing on my mind beside paintbrush types and what color paints make what color once mixed. Eventually, I mixed a color that was the same color as her skin, one that was the same color as her blush, and another that was the same color of her hair. I wanted to make a color that was the same shade as her smile, but I didn't know what colors made happiness.

Halfway through Odette's name, I felt eyes on me. I turned and they were both looking at me. I self-consciously looked back over what I had just painted to make sure it looked okay.

"What?" I finally asked.

Emily tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and I noticed she had some pink paint in it.

"We were just talking about how good of an artist you are."

I felt heat rise to my face and I smiled.

"You're just now noticing?" I joked. It meant a lot to me that Emily was impressed.

"Observe, Emily." My mom said. She motioned to me like she was pointing at an exhibit in a museum. "The Ryan ego at its prime."

Emily smiled and it made my heart do that inflation thing. She bit her lip and it got really hot in the room. I swear, sometimes I feel like I'm coming down with the flu when I'm with her. An amazing, beautiful flu.

"I think it's a good character trait." Emily said, boldly. My mom snorted and set a hand on Emily's. She squeezed her hand and turned back around.

"Oh you naïve girl." She muttered. Emily went back to painting also.

"It can't be that bad. You've lived with it for over ten years." Emily pointed out. She was right. If anyone could handle my dad's ego they could handle mine easily. My dad let his ego parade around naked, while I kept mine tied up in the closet. I went back to my work and listened to their conversation.

"Love turns those things into good things." She paused. "Or maybe they always were good things…but I'm pretty sure before I loved Jake I wanted to murder him."

Emily laughed and it was prettier than the sunset.

"It's funny how differently things sometimes turn out." Emily said. There was a long pause before my mom replied.

"It's funny how perfectly things turn out, too." And I knew she was looking at Emily when she said that. "Every now and then something happens that was just always supposed to happen."

I smiled to myself. For such a crazy woman my mother was surprisingly sane.

A familiar song came on the radio and my mom left to use the bathroom. I didn't know if it was just good timing, or if she was trying to give us time together, but I appreciated it either way. I climbed off the ladder and stood beside Emily. She looked up and I smiled at her. She set her roller down and took my hand. Her hand was so soft and small. Just that small contact made my heart beat faster.

"I think that looks beautiful." She looked at what I had so far. Odette's name was finished and I was working on Adeline's. I pulled Emily over to the ladder and I sat down on the step. She boldly sat on my lap and I laughed. She was so innocent but always working to show she was bold at the same time. I ran my hands over the paintbrushes that were in a can beside the ladder. I pulled a rigger brush out that I hadn't used yet and stuck it in the paint that was the color of Emily's cheeks when she blushed.

"Em?" I asked.

"C-dizzle?" She teased. She turned around and I pressed the paintbrush to the bridge of her nose. I painted a heart and kissed her lips.

"I love you." I reminded her, once I pulled away. She blushed and her cheeks matched my heart. She slyly pulled the paintbrush from my hands. She looked unconfident, and I smiled at how wrongly she was holding it. She pressed the paintbrush to my nose. The paint was very cold. I watched her eyes as she painted a simple heart. She looked like she was concentrating hard. She set the paintbrush down after she was done.

"And I love you." She whispered. I could feel where the paint was unevenly stroked and somehow it was the prettiest heart I'd ever seen, even if I hadn't even looked at this one yet. I kissed her cheek.

My mother made a point of stomping down the hallway, probably to warn us she was coming. Emily and I laughed and she went back to where she was painting. The song ended just as my mom walked in. We went back to painting and she didn't say anything about our matching hearts, but I did catch her smiling to herself quite a lot.

When I was almost done with Adeline's name, my mom's phone started ringing. She answered it cheerfully and then pulled it away from her ear in surprise. Someone was screaming loudly.

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Lana. I guess that answers my question. I was wondering if she was still in labor." One the screaming quieted down, my mom put the phone to her ear.

"Three centimeters? You have to be kidding me! What did the doctor say?" She paused for a while and I started on the grass. "Well, just remember it's going to be worth it in the long run. What? Why didn't I tell you it would hurt this much? Because I didn't want to scare you! It will be over before you know it." There was another long pause. Emily stood up on her tiptoes to reach the top of the wall and her shirt pulled up. I was shamelessly imagining touching the exposed skin until a sharp snap caught my attention. I flushed when I realized my mother had caught me checking Emily out. _Well, _I thought to myself, _it's only fair payback. I had to see dad check her out. _

"Okay, well, call me when the baby is here! Good luck, Lana! Yes, I love you too. I'll tell him. Okay, bye." She hung up and gave me a jokingly disapproving look.

"I saw that, Cole." She said.

"I had to see that every year of my life, woman. Don't go there." I rolled my eyes and we both started laughing at the same time. Emily was confused and as much as I don't like her being out of the loop, it was nice having an inside joke with my mom. I remembered when we used to go get ice cream and talk and laugh and we'd always come home carrying laughs that no one else understood.

We were all finished with all the painting when my dad came walking casually into the lounge. He cleared his throat and tried to appear normal but I caught that something was up.

"Okay, so, don't get mad…but on the way home I bought something."

Mom narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "It better have been baby furniture, which was what you went out for in the first place."

"I got that too! It's going to be delivered tomorrow. But, uh, I got something…else."

He leaned out of the room for a second and we all exchanged confused looks. He came back in the room, this time holding a leash. My heart leaped and I couldn't stop a grin from taking over my features.

The St. Bernard puppy pulled against his leash so excitedly that my dad had to tighten his grip.

"Oh, Jake," My mom whispered, her voice thick with emotion. I wasn't sure how I felt. I wanted to be very happy, but I wondered if that would mean I was trying to replace Moose. I decided it he would have wanted me to have another companion.

The giant puppy broke loose and came prancing toward me. He tripped over his big paws three times and Emily giggled beside me. I kneeled down and pet the happy puppy's head. He licked me and proceeded to jump to every person in the room, kissing them in turn. He didn't growl at my dad when he kissed my mom, so I knew it wasn't Moose reincarnated.

"What do you want to call him?" Mom asked as she patted his adorable little head. I know guys aren't supposed to use words like cute to explain puppies, but this dog was adorable and cute and all those words.

"Paint." I decided. Emily and I exchanged a look and it was even better to have an inside joke with her. Dad gave me a weird look.

"_Paint_? That's the dumbest dog name I've ever heard. Might as well call him Script. Paint!" He said the last word mockingly, but it was too late. The puppy bounced toward Dad as if that had always been his name.

"Well…" Mom sounded uncertain. "It…kind of suits him? Come here, Paint!"

She made her words even truer when, on his way toward her, Paint knocked into the open container of paint and got it all over him and the drop cloth. He shook his fur and the paint splattered all over us. I looked at Emily and she had pink paint flecks all over her face, everywhere but the middle of the heart I painted on her nose. I kissed her quickly, not really caring that everyone could see.

Dad tried to hold Paint back from jumping on the couch. Paint then decided that he'd rather plow my dad down and sit on him and kiss his face. I watched Paint climb on my dad and cover him with paint and I couldn't stop from laughing just as hysterically as my mother (who was watching this and making no move to help, by the way).

I glanced at Emily and noticed when she laughed her nose scrunched up so much the heart moved up and got smaller.

"I love paint." I announced, and only Emily understood what I really meant.


	45. Self

**A/n: **Thanks for the reviews! I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really appreciate it!! And hopefully I have a better range of vocabulary for this chapter than I just had when I was thanking you guys :P Anyway, thanks again :) **

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**"Oh, my son. Look at what I've done. But I am learning still, learning still, know that I am learning still. And oh, my wife. You are my life. And I am burning still, burning still, know that I am burning for you still." -- Missy Higgins, "Forgive Me".**

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Two days after we visited Lana and her new baby (Abigail Lindsay Carry) and I went to the doctor, a bouquet of flowers arrived. Forget-Me-Nots, to be specific. I guess I wasn't really that surprised when we got them. I was used to things getting screwed up right when they started to get good again. But something _did _surprise me. Inside the flowers was a thick, white card. And on the card was the number three in heavy, black ink. I had no idea what that meant, but is scared the shit out of me. Three? Three what? I have three children. Did that mean he was going to kill them? What did it _mean? _Around the same time as these flowers, Jake started acting different. He would talk less and less and always seemed to be in pain. He wouldn't tell me the problem no matter how much I begged.

Those flowers came four days ago. And now this.

I stared at the thick zero. I wasn't sure what zero meant, but this number scared me even more. The more I looked at it the more dangerous it seemed, as if it were going to suck me into the hole. Zero meant nothing. Nothing left. I could only hope that the thing that wasn't left were bad things. But I highly doubted that.

Jake was beside me before I had a chance to hide these from him. He pulled the flowers and card out of my hands and threw them out into the yard. He yanked me into his arms with tight strength.

"What were you thinking?" His voice was strangled with anger and something else. He pulled back and tightened his grip on my arms. He shook me gently. "What if those were poisoned with something? What if you breathed it in?!"

I just stared at him.

He came to his senses suddenly. His arms fell lank and he cursed under his breath. His face was pale and his breathing labored. He ran a shaking hand through his hair and all I could do was stare.

"I'm sorry, Miley…" He trailed off. I knew he loved me, but even when he said things that normally made his voice grow soft and loving, it had a hard edge to it. Something was so wrong with him and I couldn't figure it out. At first I had thought it was worry from Luke, especially when every night since the flowers he made love to me as if we were never seeing each other again. But I realized it was more like he had so much emotion inside of him that he wasn't sure just how to express it. When I asked him what had gotten into him, he simply replied with "I love you", as if that explained everything. But it wasn't just love. There was anger, and sadness. I didn't know what to do to make him tell me what was causing the emotions. I begged, but for the first time, it never seemed to really make any difference. Something inside of him was pushing him away from me, no matter how hard he tried to hang on.

It honestly frightened me more than Luke.

The doctor I'd went to scheduled my caesarean section for November twenty-fifth, way past when Malone had scheduled it. I had been counting on November eleventh. As scared as I was for the actual procedure, I was ready for the babies to be here and to get my body back. Especially if Jake kept up this passionate nightly ritual. Sex while pregnant was difficult, even for us (and we had a lot of practice).

He was just so kept together in the hard times that I didn't understand why he was falling apart now that everything was okay. I worried it was something I was doing. I paid attention to everything I did around him, but I couldn't find anything that would upset him. It made no sense to me.

He pulled me back into the house. I couldn't stop staring. He looked so different. The longer I peered into his eyes the closer I was to the problem. I think he realized that because he adverted his gaze and walked away.

"Jake."

He stopped. He turned around slowly and I bit my lip. I walked up beside him and took his hand.

"What is going on? Please. Please tell me." I begged for the hundredth time. Now I understood what he had felt when he'd gotten me drunk. I felt like getting him drunk to get answers. That's how helpless I felt. However, since it was his trick to begin with, I highly doubted he'd fall for it.

I used the same words he said to me that day. "Don't push me away anymore than you already are."

His eyes filled with sorrow and love and he kissed me with fervor. I pulled away from him and glared.

"I want answers, Jake. Words."

And he forced the fakest smile on his face that I have ever seen.

"Nothing is wrong, baby. Everything is fine."

My sudden anger caught me off guard. I pushed his arms off me and walked away. This was bullshit. Everything is not okay. Something is bothering him deeply and I'm not going to be physical comfort if he doesn't trust me emotionally. I climbed the stairs that led up to our sitting room. I sat on the couch and felt like downing a bottle of alcohol. I was his fucking wife. His supposed best friend. But yet he can't tell me what's wrong? How could someone be so vulnerable but so closed off at the same time?

I laid down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. The way the house was made, this sitting room was on the second floor of the house. It was beside the bathroom in Cole's room. He must have been taking a shower because I could hear the water running. I touched my stomach as the babies moved. They were so cramped in there now. I don't think my stomach can get any bigger. I could see knobby knees and round heads from the outside of my stomach now but it was like my body was incapable of handling any more growth. My poor back was suicidal. Maybe that's why Malone scheduled it so soon.

Why can't I ever have all my family at once? Either my son is distant, or my babies are dead, or my husband is distant. I just want everyone here, with me. Why is that too much to ask?

What felt like hours later, Jake climbed up the stairs. Before he would have come after me immediately. Maybe he really didn't love me anymore. Maybe he was falling out of love with me. Maybe that's why he made love to me every night; to try and rekindle his feelings by getting close to me. Maybe that's why he said "I love you" so much now that it was scary. To make me believe it when he couldn't show it.

"You don't love me anymore." I voiced my realization aloud the minute he entered the room. My voice was void of all emotion. He must have stopped walking because I heard no footsteps. I couldn't look at his face and see a stranger.

"_What?_" His voice was incredulous. I focused on even breathing and smoothed my hands over our babies.

"That's why you're acting like this. It explains everything." I couldn't find it in me to do anything but think _of course. _

He was at my side. He motioned for me to sit up and I grabbed the back of the couch and complied. He sat down and patted his lap. I laid back down, this time resting my head in his lap. His hands stroked through my hair and it was so familiar I could have cried.

"I will always love you more than anything else in this world, Miley." He whispered, and this was his voice, my husband's voice. It was tender and emotional and everything it should have been. I let out a gasp I didn't know I had been holding inside of me.

"Then what is wrong?" I begged, and my gasps turned into sobs. He stroked my face and it calmed me. "And don't you dare say nothing, Jake Ryan. I know you better than that. I know you better than myself." I looked up at the line of his jaw. "So why can't I figure this out?"

He kept stroking my hair and face and for a moment I thought he really wasn't going to answer me. But his mouth opened and with it a chill blew in the room.

"I'm just so angry all the time." He admitted in a tight voice. I felt my blood turn to ice. What have I been doing?

"At me? What did I do? I'm sorry. Just tell me and I won't do it every again." I pleaded.

He tightened his grip in my hair and quickly recoiled his hands, as if he had hurt me. I grasped my hand tightly around his as it tried to retreat. I kissed the back of it and looked up at him.

"Not at you. Never at you. I'm so...enraged at Luke, Miley, that I can't barely stand it. I'm filled with this fury that I can't get out. And I keep taking it out on you by accident. I can't handle it." He stopped his sentence suddenly and there was a raged pause before he continued. "Every night you cry in your sleep." He placed a hand on my forehead. "It reminds me of what he did to you and it makes me want to murder him slowly. Then those flowers…I'm so scared, Miley. I'm scared for you. I can't stand that either. Every night I think about losing you and it's just too much."

His confusion left me with guilt. I should have never accepted the vodka. I should have never let him weasel the story out of me. Now it was torturing him from the inside out. I cry in my sleep every night? I never remember the dreams I have (except that once). This is all my fault.

"Jake…" I stopped because I couldn't think of the right words to say. I didn't know how to soothe the fury inside of him and I knew there was only one way. I wrapped my arms around his waist and clung. No.

"Don't worry." He placed a kiss on my lips. "I'll work this out. I don't want you to worry. I just need time to figure out how to deal with the anger. Just know that I will never fall out of love with you."

Luke was like a virus. It had worked its way through me and now was attempting to destroy my other half. It's a good thing that half is stronger than this one.

The only thing that frightens me is the knowledge that his half is less cautious when it comes to himself.

* * *

**COLE'S POV: **

I was painting when my phone went off. Who the hell is calling me at two AM? I couldn't stop a smile when I glanced at the name. I answered.

"Hello?"

I wiped paint off my hands and onto my shirt.

"Come to your front door."

…What? I set my paintbrush down and hesitantly stood up from my chair.

"Front door? Em? What's going on?"

"I'll tell you in a second," she whispered, "just come open the door."

I pulled a pair of jeans on over my boxers and told her I was coming. I hung up the cell phone. What reasons would she have for coming here at two AM? More importantly—how did she get Oliver to let her out at this time?

I quietly tiptoed down the dark staircase. I don't guess it would be such a great idea for my parents to catch me sneaking Emily into our house at night. I padded across the carpet in the living room and made it to the foyer. I peeked out and sure enough, Emily was standing out there. By herself. No car in the driveway. What in the world is going on?

I unlocked the multiple locks and pulled the door open quietly. Emily slipped in and she smelled good. I shut the door back and locked it. She took my hand tightly and pulled me with her. My hand was spinning with confusion the whole sprint to my bedroom.

When I shut the door and locked it, Emily flung herself down on my bed. She laid on her back and laughed loudly. Her shirt rode up a bit and I could see the beautiful skin on her stomach. Her hair was wild and her face was flushed. She leaned up on her elbows and smiled at me.

"My dad and I got into a fight and I snuck out. For the first time!" She fell back on the bed again and sighed in happiness. Her voice was higher with excitement. "God I feel so bad ass right now."

And she looked incredibly sexy. I was suddenly very glad I had remembered to put jeans on. I smiled at her. She was adorable when she was acting all bad. I sat beside her on the bed and she surprised the shit out of me. She grabbed my shoulders and pulled me down beside her. Demanding Emily is the sexiest yet. I was a little stunned.

But she rested her head on my shoulder and everything fell into place again. I breathed in her hair and realized how much I had missed her in the past few hours. She gently took my hand with a familiar shyness and I grinned. She was even a good girl when she was sneaking out and going to her boyfriend's bedroom at two AM. I really love that about her.

"I really hope my dad doesn't kill you," She whispered. Her breath was warm against my neck. "Because I really love you."

Her words made me laugh. I tightened my arm that was around her.

"Were you painting something new?" She asked. I looked down and followed her gaze. The painting I had been working on was of the new puppy. Paint was curled up in my full laundry basket as we spoke. He drifted between there and my bed, never quite deciding where he wanted to sleep. He kept peeing in the house, but he always peed on the bathroom floor, so that's at least something.

I shrugged. I played with a spiral curl. It was entertaining to watch it spring back into shape.

"I wasn't really working very seriously on it. I was just bored."

"Well I like it." She whispered. I grinned and kissed her cheek.

"You like everything I draw."

There was a pause. She tipped her head back and stared at me with beautiful eyes.

"I like everything about you." She admitted. I bit back a smile and pressed my lips to hers for a moment. I pulled back.

"I love everything about you."

She repositioned her head against my arm and smiled to herself.

"Even the fact I'm so innocent?"

I grinned widely. "Especially that."

I played with another chocolate curl.

"What did you and Oliver fight about?"

She sighed and her eyes drifted shut. "Oh, I'm sure you have an idea."

"Me?"

"Yep. He's worried you're a bad influence. He thinks you're going to pressure me into things I'm not ready for." She admitted. Oliver is a jackass. I would never do that. I love her too much.

"I would neve—"

"I know." She sat up suddenly and I felt cold without her. "He should be worried about me pressuring you. I'm the one who flung myself at you that night, after all."

I snorted. She would never have to pressure me to do anything.

She eyed me and I felt like she was uprooting my soul. She obviously liked whatever she discovered because she smiled softly.

"Will you kiss me?" She asked. Like she had to ask. As if I would say no. I wrapped my arms around her waist and she looped hers around my neck. I pressed my lips to hers once, and then she pressed hers to mine for a second time. I pulled back so I didn't break our understood boundary, but she surprised me (once again). She moved closer and pressed her lips to mine again and suddenly I was on my back and she was on top of me. Oh God. Blood is rushing down south. Problems. Issues. She pressed her lips to mine again. No. No problems. No issues. Perfection.

Somehow we ended up rolling over, and my upper body was hovering over hers. She threaded her hands in my hair and simply kissing never felt so good. I felt like every inch of my body was on fire, but it was a pleasant fire. She pulled away suddenly, gasping for breath. I was in a similar situation. I drew in oxygen and ran a hand over my disheveled hair. She smiled shyly at me, her face flushed and her hair everywhere. She never looked so gorgeous. She sat up and played with the hem of her shirt. A deep blush began to creep on her face.

"I want to make out with you," She admitted, "but I don't know how." The darkest blush I'd ever seen her have seeped into her cheeks and I smiled at her. I felt so happy that she trusted me enough to tell me things that obviously embarrassed her. I smiled at her.

"Are you sure? If you're sure you're ready I can teach you." I offered. I didn't want to rush her into anything. I wanted her to be happy and comfortable.

She took my hands.

"I love you. When you say my name my heart races like I've been running, and no matter how terrible my day has been, when I see you it becomes the best day. That's how I know you're the one." She smiled so wide her eyes crinkled. "I'm ready."

My heart expanded and I felt so happy. The one. Why did those words make me feel so safe? I guess because now I knew she'd never want to leave me for anyone else. She'd always want me. I was her one.

I tried to tell myself it was just making out. But it didn't feel that way. It felt like a huge step in our relationship and I was afraid to mess it up. With any other girl it was "just making out" but everything we did meant something to me. I didn't want to rush this if I didn't think she was really ready for it, because it meant so much to us. Her heart meant so much to me.

I looked into her eyes that were so deep that I could lose myself in them and found nothing that hinted of unease. She seemed comfortable (besides being a little nervous) and I decided that she was ready. We were ready.

I leaned in slowly and turned my head to the right so she would know to turn hers to the left (to avoid bumping noses).

"Just do whatever I do." I whispered. She nodded and her eyes fluttered shut. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pressed my lips to hers. I pulled back and kissed her again, deeper this time. The third time I met her lips I parted my lips slowly, to show her what to do. She followed and I could hear her breathing heavily out of her nose. I ran my tongue lightly over her bottom lip and she tasted like everything good in the world. She gripped my shirt nervously and I pulled back. I offered her the biggest possible smile and kissed her cheek.

"Calm down. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. I'm perfectly fine with waiting if you want to."

She giggled, but it had an edge. "I know. I'm just nervous."

"There's nothing to be nervous about. This is me, remember?"

She leaned forward this time and met my lips. She hesitated with her lips against mine and parted her lips carefully. I kissed her upper lip to encourage her and she ran her tongue over my bottom lip just as I had done to her. My heart inflated and I had to pinch myself to keep from breaking out in a smile. I took the lead again so I could show her the path, and things picked up a comfortable pace. She seemed so at ease after a few minutes that it was as if we had been doing this all our lives.

We fell back on the bed and I longed to push my hand up her shirt, but I understood that that was not a boundary to be broken tonight. One step at a time works for us. However, the deeper into the making out we got, the harder it was to contain myself. She tasted unlike anything else in the world. The smell of paint surrounded us and I pulled back for a moment. I could tell she was still having trouble managing to breathe at the right times out of her nose. She gasped for air and I kissed her cheek. Once her breathing got back under control, I pressed my lips back to hers. She was the one who parted her mouth first this time. She was a fast learner.

My hand was touching her stomach when something suddenly jumped onto of us, barking excitedly. I pulled away from Emily and Paint sat his fat ass on her lap. As much as I wanted to keep going, it was probably good that Paint had interrupted us when he had.

He wagged his tail excitedly and Emily laughed. She scratched behind his ears and I patted his head. He kissed my hand and barked happily again.

I met Emily's eye and I knew she felt the same way I did. She looks so pretty with swollen lips and flushed cheeks. Paint curled up in a ball between Emily and I on the bed and I held her hand. All three of us welcomed sleep with open arms. The smell of paint was going to always remind me of Emily's hands in my hair, her tongue against mine, and the shy way she laughed every time we accidentally bumped teeth.

"You're the one for me, too." I whispered. I thought she was asleep, but her finger stroked lightly over my hand and I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

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**JAKE'S POV: **

She fell asleep against me. I stared out the window and focused on the rise and fall of her chest against my chest. I kept my arm around her and she had her head resting on my shoulder. I felt calmer than I had in days right now. I stroked her bare skin and just thought about her. Love can be so painful sometimes. Love—the true kind—fills your heart to bursting and it hurts. The love builds and builds and puts pressure on your heart that makes you giddy. It starts leaking out of your heart and filling you from top to bottom, and that's usually when you lose control. The thought of losing the person who fills you up turns all that love into stone and it drags you down and down and down until you can't breathe anymore without the help of that person. Or maybe that's just how it is for us. I love her so much…maybe too much.

I looked away from the moon and looked back at her sleeping face. The poor moon couldn't win that battle of beauty. Her lips were parted slightly as she slept and her hair fanned out on my arm and the pillow behind us. She looked so peaceful, so happy. I stroked her hair out of her face. I know men aren't supposed to act possessive, but she was mine. All mine. I leaned my head down and kissed the top of her head. I let my face rest there for a moment. Mine.

I felt lost. I didn't have any idea what to do about the rage built up inside of me. It was holding me back from being the husband I needed to be for Miley, it was holding me back from being the father I needed to be for Cole and these babies. But the only time I ever felt a little better was after making love with the person who showed me what that word really meant. That did me no good. What am I going to do? I was so furious at myself for making me feel these things, but I couldn't stop it. No matter how I tried to let it go, I couldn't. She was my life. No, she meant more to me than that. Her pain hurt me so much. And those fucking flowers he sent meant he was planning something. He was going to hurt her again. And once again he'd use my family against me and I would have to watch as he killed her.

Life without her would be unbearable. I imagined waking up every morning to feel her absence. I imagined going to sleep every night without kissing her goodnight. I had to stop there, because it was already too much to handle.

Jerky movements of our children alerted me another nightmare was going on in her beautiful head. They always started squirming a few minutes before she started crying. Logic would say it was because her increased heart rate, but I think it's because they feel her pain too. I set a hand over them and tried to help them. I turned the radio on softly while I debated on waking her up. Usually, if she woke up, she remembered the dreams. I didn't want her to remember them. I just wanted her to forget what happened and never remember it again.

About twenty minutes after the babies showed discomfort, she whimpered. It was a sound so painful it made my stomach hurt. I kissed her head and stroked her leg. I expected her to calm down as she usually did, but the whimpering turned into sobbing. Her hands knotted around the bed sheet with weak strength. Her face turned away from my shoulder and then back. Warm tears hit my skin softly. I tightened my grip around her and tried to endure it. But the pain from her pain was mixing with my furious anger.

She gasped suddenly and kind of woke up. She was half asleep as she slid her hands over and rested them on my chest. Her fists shut as if they were looking for something solid to hold onto that would keep her out of the nightmare world.

"Jake," She breathed against my shoulder. Her voice sounded pleading and I hurt enough to cry myself.

"You're okay," I soothed. She moved her head away and then back—a shake of denial.

"It just kept happening," She gasped, "over and over again. I couldn't…stop it." Her words trailed off and her lower body seemed to flinch at the memory of the pain.

It was all too much to handle then.

He had hurt her body. He held her down and hurt her beautiful body. He hurt her. No. I can't…I won't…he's going to die. I grabbed a pillow with shaking hands and grabbed her head with my other. I slipped the pillow under her head and once I was out of the bed, I rested one under the side of her stomach. Anger was building so strongly that I couldn't stop shaking. I could only think of her pain.

I stumbled blindly around the room, looking for paper and a pen. I opened the draw in the small table by the window and pulled out what I was looking for. I opened my dresser and pulled out a pair of boxers and shorts. I pulled those on and threw on a t-shirt next. Then I hurried out of the dark bedroom and into the kitchen. I flicked the lights on and sat at the kitchen table and wrote. I wrote until my fingers cramped and my wrists ached. I wrote until my hands ached almost as much as my heart.

I set each of the letters in the center of the island. Then I took the third letter and carried it back with me to the bedroom. I tried to think of somewhere to put it, where she would only find it if I were gone. I opened my drawer and placed it on top of my t-shirts. If I died she would eventually have to clean out my dresser, and she would find that.

Hiding letters reminded me so much of when I had to leave her that I doubled over in pain. This time I was leaving of my own accord, to chase down the man who did this to her, who did this to us. This would be the most selfish act I would ever commit, but I knew that when I was murdering him, I would be proud of it.

I sat back on the bed and kissed her lips, maybe for the last time. I love her. And that's why I have to go. She will be so angry with me. She will be so sad.

But I have to do this one thing for myself. I have to leave her in the end of her pregnancy and find this scum from Hell and destroy him, because if I don't, she's going to lose me in a much worse way.

Cole will be angry too. But I know he'll step up and help her no matter what. I wouldn't pick anyone else to watch over her. I trusted him with my life.

I walked into the bathroom and into my closet and I pulled the gun case off the top shelf. I entered the lock code and the box sprang open to revel the shining gun. I would cradle it as if it were Miley when I was using it, because it was going to give me back the only thing holding me back from my family: myself.

I put that in a duffel bag along with my wallet, cell phone, cell phone charger, toothbrush and toothpaste, soap, and extra clothes. I wouldn't be able to keep this bag as a carry on when I boarded the plane, so I brought a jacket with pockets to store my cell phone and wallet.

I was thinking of things like boarding the plane, but not even touching on questions like: what happens when you do find him? How will you find him?

Mostly because those had no answers.

I carried the bag back into the bedroom and stared at her moonlight-soaked skin. My grip on the bag grew slack and it slid a little down my arm. How could I do this to her?

My grip tightened and a much truer thought overtook that one.

How could I not?

* * *

**MILEY'S POV: **

I jerked away at five AM, terrified like I never have been. I gasped for air and sprang up. Something was so wrong. I opened my eyes and expected to see Jake sleeping beside me.

The bed was completely empty.

One part of me thought that maybe he had gone to the bathroom, or kitchen, but a large part of me—my heart—knew it wasn't true. I pulled my robe on.

"Jake!" I called his name anyway, and searched the house top from bottom. When I entered the kitchen and saw the letters, I collapsed. My heart felt missing, like he had sliced me open and taken it with him. I grasped the flimsy paper in my hands and read the one addressed to me.

_Miley—_

_I am so sorry. I love you so, so much. I just couldn't handle it anymore. I still can't handle it anymore. It is too much. I have to kill him because if I don't you will lose me and I will lose myself too. Please don't worry too much. I am sorry. So sorry. But I have to do this. I have to. It is eating me up from the inside out and I'm afraid if I let it go on any longer there will be nothing left of me. Be careful. Tell Adeline and Odette that I love them very much and that I will miss them. You are my life. I'll call you once the plane lands. _

_Jake _

No. No! How could he do this to me?! How could he?! He was going to die! Luke was going to kill him! No, no. This can't be happening. Maybe he hasn't left yet.

I set my letter down and ran to the door. I threw it open so fast it slammed against the wall. I grabbed my keys and hurried outside. His car was gone. Maybe he had just gone a little down the road! I have to find him, I have to stop him! He has my heart! I love him! Somebody has to stop him for me! I love him. I love him. I love him.

But when has that ever been enough to stop death?

I threw my car into reverse and took this road going sixty five miles per hour. The speed limit was thirty five. I drove halfway to the airport before I realized it was too late. I pulled over on the side of the highway and cried. I cried so hard the babies moved in discomfort and I kept hitting the steering wheel. How could he do this?

I sat in the car long after my tears dried up. I couldn't think. I couldn't move. When I finally realized that I was sitting in my car on the side of a highway, naked except for a robe, I gathered my wits and started my car. I drove slowly back to the house.

I let out another sob as I reentered the house. How could he do this? He was committing suicide. Did he not care about me? Did he not care that he is my everything? If he loved me he never would have done this. Never.

My sob must have been louder than I thought because I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I closed my robe with shaking hands and tied the strings shut on the side. Cole appeared a minute later, Emily at his side.

Seeing Emily completely through me off.

"What the hell is she doing here?" I asked hysterically. I pressed the bottom of my palms to my eyes to try and stop the never ending flow of my heartbreak.

"What's wrong, Mom?" Cole demanded. I glanced at the kitchen and Emily followed my gaze. She hurried over to the island and pulled the letter addressed to Cole off of it. She handed it to him wordlessly.

His jaw dropped and Paint, the little puppy, came prancing down the stairs. He pressed his wet nose to my leg and whined. He walked back a bit and sat where he could see my face. His eyes begged mine. He wanted Jake too.

Cole quickly picked Paint up and I walked to my bedroom. I shut the door and crawled into the bed. Maybe this would all be just one of those horrible dreams, and in the morning Jake will back at my side, instead of heading to his sure death.

If only.


	46. Revenge

**A/n: **It is currently 5:43 AM. Yayyy. I was going to wait to update, but I got such a great response for last chapter that I decided to go ahead. This story has about **four/five chapters** left, so if you didn't **vote in the poll**, I would still be thankful for that. I'm hoping I can get those up before I leave for vacation (June 26th). I apologize for any typos. I really hope you all enjoy this chapter and if you leave a review it will make this sleepless night worthwhile :D Now, I'm off to dreamland!**

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**"Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah." -- Rufus Wainwright, "Hallelujah".****

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**"****Anger** is a brief madness."-- Horace. 

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**COLE'S POV: **

I ran a hand over my face and walked into the kitchen. I sat at the table and sighed. Emily sat beside me and I suddenly felt so terrible. She doesn't want to be in love with me. She doesn't want to be involved with this family. We have too many emotional problems. I didn't want them to wear down on her as badly as they wore down on me.

"You should probably head home, Em." I whispered. She gave me a knowing smile and gently took my hand.

"My dad will be calling here in hysterics soon. I'm only leaving if you want me to leave."

God no. The thought of sitting all alone in this humongous house listening to my mother sob from her bedroom was torture. Emily knew that, too. She knew me. Probably better than the people who gave me life.

"I don't want you to leave. I never want you to leave. I just think you'd be happier away from all this drama." I explained. She kept my hand tightly in one of hers and ran her fingers through my hair with the other.

"All this drama has always been a part of my life, Cole. If you've forgotten, you and your family have been a part of my life since I breathed my first breath."

Her words made me feel less guilty. No matter if I was with her or not, this would concern her. I kissed her gently and smiled at her. She dropped her hands and stood up from the table.

"Do you want something to drink?" She asked. She moved around the kitchen as if it was hers and I got a sudden mental image of us in our own kitchen. I shook my head. How does that demon part of me keep getting untied?!

"Sure, but I can get it." I started to stand up but she gave me a look.

"I want to get it for you." She argued. I walked over to her and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Do you want some coffee?" I asked. She leaned her head on my arm.

"I'm getting the drinks. I just said so."

I grinned.

"How about you make breakfast, and I'll make coffee?" I suggested. She stretched her head up and kissed my neck. My heart pounded and I hugged her tighter.

"Sounds like a deal."

I don't know how to make coffee. I pretended to be making it while really watching Emily. It was so wrong that I was playing house while my mother was sobbing and my father was God knows where. I could do nothing for either of them, though. Right?

I walked away from the counter and grabbed my dad's letter off the table. I read over it again.

_Cole_

_This is one of those times where you don't need to think of me as a positive role model. Jesus is the man, not me. I apologize for setting such a bad example for you, and I apologize for leaving you (again). Do you remember back in Virginia when I told you I was so mad at the man who hurt your mother? That anger has taken over me. I can't have him alive, Cole. I can't have him alive and threatening to hurt you and the rest of the family. I have to go and get rid of him, this time for good. Don't talk to that Caitlyn girl. Please watch over your mother. Remind her that I have the element of surprise on my side. And, Cole, if something happens with the babies…be there for her, okay? Don't leave her alone like I did. Be the man I can't be. Watch over her and yourself. I am so proud of you. I wouldn't trust anyone else with watching over her and the babies. You are already a good man and I hope I will be alive to see the man you become. I don't want to scare you, because I'm sure everything will be okay, but if it isn't…you are the best son I ever could have asked for and I have enjoyed being your father. Don't show your mother this. It will scare her. I wrote my last words to her on a different letter and hid it, but I know you can handle it. I guess, if this would be the last thing I said to you, I'd want to give you advice that I have learned over the years. There had to be so much after all I've been through, but I can only think of one thing: Love and love well. Never hold back and never be afraid to bare your heart because with every piece that is taken, another is put in its place. I guess I should put some manly advice in here too. Never bet money on a team no matter how good they are, because odds are they will lose that one game. Always treat the girl you love with respect and tell her she's beautiful, because even if you can see it as plain as night and day, she might not be able to. Never be ashamed of your art, especially since girls kill for the artistic, sensitive types. Never go inside of a girl who isn't already inside of your heart because sex and love are like bones and blood: you have to have them both to walk and live. You won't go far on one without the other (unless, of course, you're not married, then you must limp without sex until you are married, mister). There's a reason there is an age of consent, because sex is something just as dangerous as alcohol or driving or tobacco. If you aren't mature enough for it, you're going to seriously mess yourself up. You may think it's not that big of a deal now, but that is because you have never made love with someone you actually love with all your heart. That is when it becomes real. I guess what I'm getting at is: be responsible. You were raised with morals whether you like to show it or not. Use them. Use your common sense. If you get that gut feeling that tells you something is wrong, listen to it. It's not indigestion from last night's Mexican food, I promise. The most important thing I want you to know is that I love you. It's not a coincidence that Caden means fighter. _

_Love,  
Dad_

"Cole?" Emily set a warm hand on my shoulder. I set the letter down and offered her a weak smile. She gently pried the letter from my hands and folded it. She handed it back to me and I stuck it in my pocket.

"He's going to be okay, Cole." She eyed my face for a moment and realized I didn't believe her. She hugged my arm. "You know what I think?" She whispered.

"Hmm?" I asked.

"I think he will get over the anger before he even finds the man." She seemed so confident that it made me feel a little better. But I thought about that dream where that dinosaur bit Emily. I thought about how angry I felt. I thought about how I chased it all through the forest for what felt like hours, even after I was bleeding from thorns and snapping branches. I shook my head.

"I don't think so, Emily. I really don't think so." I set my cheek on the top of her head and smelled her shampoo. It smelled like coconut and something fruity. "He can't just go kill people, Em. What is he thinking?"

"He's thinking he loves your mother. He's thinking that he needs to get protect you guys. He's feeling all the emotions that are good until they turn radical." Her voice was soft and smooth, like water in a small creek flowing gently over smooth, gray stones. It was just as soothing.

"But what if he dies, Em?" My voice cracked and I wasn't even embarrassed. "What do I do then? You don't understand. My mother…she will die. Where would the babies and I go? How could I be an orphan? Had could I even handle that?"

She tightened her grip on my arm.

"He won't die, Cole. And if he does, you can come live with me forever."

"How do you know that?" I begged for believable reasons. She let go of my arms and stood in front of me. She looked me in the eye. Her eyes were soft.

"Because if he loves her half as much as I love you he won't be able to stay away."

I pulled her into my arms and held her there. A part of me was intent on never letting her go.

A burning smell filled the air.

"Cole? The breakfast is burning." She mumbled into my shirt. I reluctantly released her and she hurried over to the stove. I walked back over to the coffee and read the instructions seriously, all the while thinking about how life really wasn't fair.

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**MILEY'S POV: **

I woke up to a cold room. The sheets were cold, my body was cold, the air was cold, and my heart was cold. Cole sat on the edge of the bed and called for me again. I rolled over and he looked scared. My poor son. My poor children.

"Do you want something to drink or eat?" He asked. The horror of the situation settled on me. No! My son wasn't going to wait on me as if I were incapable. Not this time. This time I would be strong for him. I would try. Oh but, God, could I try? Could I even get out of the bed? Jake. Jake. The name was so painful in my mind. Would the day come soon where I could only think the name, and never speak it out loud? Surely I could muster hope. Jake is strong. But he is so hotheaded! What was he thinking? Nothing. He was thinking nothing except rage. Pain and rage. And love. How often the three were paired together.

"Mommy?"

That did it. His voice was so vulnerable, so small. He needed me. These babies needed me. I had to be there. If I couldn't help Jake I had to try and help them.

"Thank you, Coley. I'll be up in a few minutes. Why don't you go kiss Emily a few more times before I come out?" I joked weakly.

He laughed just as feebly and I knew he realized how hard I was trying. He stood up.

"Okay, Mom. I'll make sure to do that."

He shut the door and I forced myself up. As hard as I tried, I couldn't suppress the trembling of my hands. I could force down the sobs, I could hold back the tears, and I could strangle the screams, but nothing could be done about the shaking. I guess my body was feeling the stress of the loss of my heart.

I dressed quickly and ended up in a shirt Alana had given me years ago. She had a shopping problem and bought me maternity clothes like they would be used for more than just a few months. I liked this shirt, though. It was a cotton t-shirt the color of the ocean. I finished dressing and grasped my cell phone as if it were going to save my life. I checked the screen, but of course I had no messages or missed calls from the person I most needed to hear from. He said he'd call when the plane landed. I could try and talk sense into him then. At the very least I would get to hear his voice and know he was alright. Breathe.

I walked out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen. I planned on smiling despite my aching heart, laughing despite my bleeding heart, and carrying on despite my missing heart. But it was so much harder than it seemed. So much harder.

I eased into a chair across from Emily and Cole. Breakfast consisted of a box of Life cereal and a gallon of milk. Cole slid a bowl and spoon across the table and even something as simple as eating without Jake felt strange.

"Thank you." Smile. Smile. I couldn't do it.

"I tried to make eggs and bacon…but…" Emily turned her attention to the corner of the room. Paint was eagerly eating the burnt up eggs and bacon.

"He was the only one who could stomach it." Cole explained.

I managed to crack a small smile at that. I tried to force a conversation.

"So, what are you doing here, Emily?" I asked. She bit her lip.

"My dad and I got into a fight and I just kind of came here on default." She admitted. I nodded.

A painful silence that was the same size as Jake's absence settled over all of us. We ate to the sound of spoons clanking against bowls.

Almost the exact moment I was finished eating, my cell phone went off. My heart raced so fast it made my head throb and I snatched my phone off the table. I was so disappointed that I could have cried when I saw it was Oliver.

"Yes?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking, and failing miserably.

"OH MY GOD, MILEY, HAVE YOU SEEN EM—"

"Yes. She's here." I forced out. Emily gulped.

"Thank God!" He exclaimed. He laughed in relief. "Now tell her to get her little butt home right this instance!" He demanded.

"She'll come home in a few hours. She's still pretty pissed at you. Give her time to calm down. She's safe here." Why can't I control my voice? I hoped Emily was okay with that. Truth be told, I was afraid once she was gone that the full impact of what happened would hit Cole. I wanted her around him because she made him happy.

Emily gave me a grateful smile. Cole looked at her like she personally created the stars.

"But…but…I miss her." He forced out.

"She misses you too, but she needs time." I felt burning behind the back of my eyes. Jake would never be able to freak out over his teenage daughter sneaking out. No. I can't think like he's already dead. I have one chance to convince him to turn around. To come home, where he belongs.

Oliver sighed. "Did I interrupt another one of your fights with Jake? I swear, you guys fight more and more like an old married couple each day. I guess that makes sense though…because with every day you become an older and older married couple…"

His words tore at me. My eyes caught fire and my throat felt raw. I drew in shallow breaths to keep from crying. _Don't fall apart in front of your son. Don't do it. _I chanted it to myself like a prayer. What I wouldn't have given to have been fighting with Jake. That's so much better than him being gone.

"Jake is gone." I whispered into the phone. I stared at the milk and soggy Life cereal.

"Gone? What do you mean?" Oliver asked in a very confused voice.

"I mean gone, Oliver. He left. He…he went to go kill Luke." It was so quiet the silence was ringing loudly in my ears.

Oliver was quiet for a long time.

"I can't say I blame him." He finally settled with. I shook my head and couldn't find it in me to do anything but laugh sadly. Men. They will always put their rage before their rational thinking.

"I didn't even see it coming." I felt tears making an appearance and Emily and Cole excused themselves to the living room. "I never thought he would leave me."

A vague memory pushed its way into my mind.

_His hands were shaking and he breathed deeply._

"_You're angry." I frowned and sweetly touched the wrinkles the worry made on his forehead._

"_I want to torture him." He admitted._

_I shifted so I could stare him in the eyes._

"_Will you please help me first?"_

_He pulled me back into his arms._

"_Of course I will, of course. I love you."_

He had helped me, hadn't he? I was happy. I had everything I ever wanted. He had done everything he could for me, and now he was doing this one thing for himself, to make himself happier. I could have accepted that if it weren't for the fact it was going to get him killed or locked away for life.

There had been so many signs; so many times he let his fury show. They all came into my mind now, once it was too late. Isn't that how it always goes? I always missed the signs until it was too late to heed their warnings.

"I'm sure he didn't see it coming, either." Oliver said, gently.

The sobs pushed past my barrier.

"I've got to go, Oliver, bye." I hung up the phone before he witnessed my breakdown. I kept a hand over my mouth and cried inaudibly.

The sun was bright in the sky when my phone rang again. This time it was who it was supposed to be. I gasped for air and answered it.

"Jake." I said. I had no idea what I wanted to do: scream, sob, beg. Maybe all three.

"Miley." He greeted. His voice sounded tired and I could hear other voices around him. Good, he's still at the airport. "I'm so sorry." His voice sounded pained.

There were so many things I wanted to say, but this is all I could:

"You promised me you'd never leave me again." I wiped my eyes. It was a pointless act because new tears took their place moments later.

"I know, Mile. I'm so, so, so sorry. But I have to do this. I have to." His voice begged me to understand.

"No you don't, Jake! You have to be here with me! He's going to kill you, Jake! Please don't do this to me! If you loved me, how could you ever do this to me?! Please don't go, Jake. Come home. Please. Please. I will do anything. _Please!" _I was holding the phone so tightly my fingers ached.

I could hear his pain, his inner struggle.

"I'm sorry." Was all he could say.

And all my self control just broke. I gasped for air as I sobbed and I realized my heart wasn't missing. It hurt too much to be missing. It was shredded and torn, as if someone had dug their fingernails deep into it. Only that could explain the pain.

"Don't do this, Jake! Please! God, please, don't do it! You don't understand! He will _kill _you! Don't you remember what you said to me that day, in Virginia, when you were trying to convince me to go to England? How would you feel if you never, ever got to see me again! How would you feel if you never got to see these babies! Please come home. I love you. Don't kill me!" I felt blood pounding in my head and I was dizzy and nauseous. This can't be happening to me.

"_You_ don't understand." He whispered. A sudden anger stronger than my tears overtook me and I shoved my bowl off the table. It shattered and the sound was pleasing.

"God dammit, Jake, you're right! I don't understand! You say you love me and that you love our children but you left us! And if you don't turn around now you're going to leave us for good! Please, we can find a way to handle this. Let's call the police. Seeing him locked away in jail forever will have to give you some peace! Just come home! You told me we could work through anything! Let's prove it, Jake! I need you."

I never felt as nervous in my life as I waited for him to reply.

"I am not me, Miley." He whispered. "I have horrible thoughts because I'm so angry, and they are taking over my mind. If I don't do this I'll be a different man. Wouldn't you rather have a memory of me as me than a stranger?"

"No! I just want you—"

"Well you can't have me until I get myself back from that bastard!" He yelled.

"_Please, _Jake. Please." I pushed the rest of my hope into those last three words.

"I love you, Miley. I love you more than I could put into words. You are my girl, forever. But I have to go now. Goodbye."

_No. Don't go, Jake. Please. Don't leave me. Don't leave me…please._ I wanted to scream those words to him, but I knew this was it.

"I love you so much that I am not me without you." I whispered. _I am nobody without you. There is no me, just us. _

He paused and there was the sound of a ragged gasp before he ended the call. I let my phone fall to the table and I cried so hard the babies moved down and put painful pressure on my pelvis.

_I love you, but I really wish I didn't.

* * *

_

**ONE MONTH LATER**

**JAKE'S POV: **

One month. One painful, terrible month. One horrendous month passed, and I found him. I found him.

I stood outside of the small house. My rage made me want to run in there and let the gun in my pocket go off until he was dead, but the little piece of my former self calmed me. _Patience, _it cooed, _be patient and you will win. _

It seemed to perfect when his wife and daughter left the house. I stayed out of sight as they climbed into a car and drove off. He was by himself. It would be so simple. All I had to do was walk in there and pull the trigger.

I waited until darkness fell to make my move. With my heart thudding, I pulled the heavy gun out of my pocket. I stroked the sleek metal and prepared it to be shot. I tried the doorknob, and it was unlocked. What did a man like that have to fear?

_Jake Ryan, _I thought with sick satisfaction, _he has Jake Ryan to fear.

* * *

_

**MILEY'S POV: **

"Did Dad leave you a voicemail?"

I looked up and Cole slid down the stair banister. He sat beside me on the couch and I paused the movie. It was one of Jake's. I hadn't seen him in a month. He left me voicemails every day, but he sounded less and less like himself and more and more like a stranger. It still hurt. And it never seemed to lessen. My fear for him got worse and also tagged along with fear for myself. I was going into the hospital in fourteen days. In fourteen days, I would have these babies.

And it would be without Jake.

Thoughts like that started up my tears. I focused on Cole's question and tried so hard to believe everything was going to be okay. But it just hurt so badly. How could anything good come from pain like this? Every morning I woke up and my first thought was Jake, and if he was alive. Every night I laid down to sleep and my last thought was of Jake, and how safely he was sleeping, and if he missed me in his arms at all. The missing was still the same—a constant pain. But there were days when it hurt more than others. Like when our song came on the radio, or one of the babies kicked so hard it made my eyes water, or when he had been gone so long that I had begun to forget the way he ran his fingers through my hair and the way he brushed his teeth.

For once, I found myself identifying with Alyssa. She loved her husband, probably not as much as I loved Jake, but probably well enough to miss him. He was losing himself in the rage he felt toward me, and all she wanted was him back. She didn't care who he hurt in the process. I honestly felt the same way. I just wanted my Jake. I wanted his arms around me, and I wanted to see his smile, or his eyes. I couldn't care less what the fuck happened to Luke, or Alyssa, or even Caitlyn.

Did that make me evil? So be it. They messed with us first. They took things from _us. _I just wanted my husband.

"Not since yesterday. You?" I asked. Cole's question worried me. Jake told me the day he didn't leave me or Cole a voicemail would be the day he found Luke. I felt sick at the very thought.

"Not today." He said softly. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm sure everything is okay."

It felt good to be the comforter instead of the comforted. I didn't believe a vowel of my statement, though. Jake was too good to kill.

We were halfway through the movie when I felt a sudden, light cramping start in the small of my back and circle over my stomach. My heart seemed to stop and I broke out in a cold sweat.

"Are you okay?" Cole asked.

I breathed. It's nothing. It's my imagination.

"I'm fine." I smiled and turned back to the movie.

_Oh, God_, I prayed, _this would be the best time for a miracle._

* * *

**JAKE'S POV: **

I threw the door open and he was sitting casually on the chair, as if he were always waiting for me. When I saw him, it was as if all the anger I had been holding back for all these months was unleashed. I dropped the gun. I was going to beat his mother fucking ass with my bare hands. But the small part inside of me warned me to wait until he did something first. Self defense. I could say I came to kill him, but then changed my mind (hence the dropped gun) but then he started attacking me, and I had to retaliate for my own safety.

He calmly reached on the table beside him and picked up a gun.

Go.

I shot across the room and grabbed his neck. I pulled him out of the chair and swung him around. The gun landed near mine. I slammed his body into the TV that he was watching. Glass and sparks and blood flew everywhere.

"You bastard!" I screamed. I yanked back my fist and slammed it into his jaw with a force so strong his neck snapped back. I hit him again and again and again, thinking about how much he had hurt my wife.

He shoved me back suddenly and I fell down. He stared at me with hatred so dark he was Satan. He grabbed a lamp and raised his arm. I jerked to the side too soon. He threw it and it smashed into my arm. I screamed out in pain, but the pain was _nothing _compared to my anger.

Up.

I pushed myself up and punched him again. I grabbed his hair with my fist and smashed his head into the wall. Red was never such a beautiful color. I smashed it again until he got the upper hand. He punched me in the gut and I doubled over. He placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back. I fell on the floor again and he grabbed my gun of the floor.

No.

I missed the shot by what felt like a centimeter. I sat up and moved forward, kicking his legs. He fell down and I stood up. I kicked his back so hard he scooted across the living room.

"YOU WILL NEVER, EVER TOUCH HER AGAIN!" I screamed. His blood was everywhere. He laid still for a moment and then reached into his pocket. He pulled out something silver and was suddenly on me. He flicked open the knife. He restrained my hands with a surprising force. He smiled a red smile at me.

"I used this knife on your wife's skin. It cut so beautifully, like slicing delicate ribbon. And the sound of pain she made! It was the most delightful sound." He pressed the knife against my throat and it burned. "I wonder what kind of sound you make."

As soon as he put more pressure on the knife, and less on holding me back, I kneed him. He stumbled back and I snatched the knife from his hands. He may be evil, but I have love on my side.

I shoved him against the wall and held the knife to him.

Revenge.

"I'm going to cut your fucking skin everywhere you cut my wife," I hissed. The deepest pain took over his face and I realized what it was from. His pride was wounded. I was winning. I beat him. I pressed the knife to his cheek and pressed down until it was deep in him. Blood soaked everywhere. I kept the same amount of pressure and started pulling it down, watching as the knife sliced open so much skin—and was sick.

I dropped the knife, and Luke, and he fell to the floor. I stared in a mixture of horror and pleasure at what I had just done. I am not a killer. I am not a killer.

I ran from the house. I ran so fast it was like the blood was flying off me and being sucked up by the trees and grass.

I didn't stop running until I was back at the apartment I was staying in. I stripped my clothes off and burned them in the fireplace. I ran a bath—probably the first one I'd taken by myself in years—and soaked in it. I was bleeding, but it wasn't too bad. My thoughts and what had just happened were a tangled mess inside of my head. A blur. A blur of madness.

I listened to the water dripping from the faucet.

The anger was gone. I could have cried in relief. All the anger, the fury…it was left with Luke in that house. But a new, frustrating emotion took its place. Horror at myself. It was so much easier compared to the other feeling, though, and I felt so free.

My cell phone went off around the time the water got cold. I climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel around my waist. I grabbed the phone and saw my son was calling me. I flipped it open.

"Hi." I greeted. Even talking was easier.

"Mom is in labor."


	47. Family

**A/n: **Thank you so much for the great reviews! Another fast update is in order! Three or four more chapters :) Thank you all who voted on the poll!** If you still haven't, it would be great if you did**. It's three clicks. That's all. It can't take but thirty-ish seconds :D Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Reviews equal freakishly fast updates.

* * *

**You may trod me  
in the very dirt  
But still,  
like dust,  
I'll rise.**

**-Maya Angelou**

* * *

She pressed the bandage to his cheek again. How could that man do this? She stroked back his hair and pulled away the bandage. The slice on his cheek was so deep.

"You need stitches." She informed him. He sighed heavily.

"You can do it for me later."

She could, but she didn't want to. He'd made her stitch him up once before and it was the scariest thing she'd ever done in her lifetime. She gently secured the bandage and glanced around her ruined living room.

"Why did you let him get away alive?" She hissed. No man did this to her husband and just walked away.

His cheeks turned upward in a sardonic smile. She wondered how he could do that with the slice on his cheek. The pain didn't phase him.

"Because he plays a starring role in my plan. A role that he has to be alive for."

She shivered in delight. Her Luke.

"But what if he had killed you?" She demanded.

He snorted.

"Alyssa, baby…he couldn't kill anyone. I knew that from the moment he walked through this door."

* * *

**MILEY'S POV:**

I breathed through another contraction and Oliver held my hand. Jake should have been here, holding my hand. How could he miss the birth of these babies?

"Jesus Christ! Ow! That hurts!" Oliver screamed, as if he were the one having contractions. I glared at him and hit him with my free hand. I set it back on my hospital gown clad stomach after that and wondered what this felt like for the babies.

I turned my gaze to Cole, who was standing helplessly at my other side. Emily was sitting in the chair behind him and watching me with a pale face. Great. I was probably scaring her out of ever wanting to give me grandchildren.

The contraction passed and I relaxed against the pillows. Where was my doctor? Oliver drove all of us to the hospital and the only thing they could tell me was that my doctor was on her way. They admitted me, put me in this room, made me change into a hospital gown, and nothing else. I'm supposed to have a c-section! Are they just going to leave me cringing in this bed until my body tries to have these babies normally? They needed to get the hell in here and stop my labor!

The next contraction was worse. I gasped and cried out at the severe, cramping pain. Cole seemed scared.

"Do you want me to call Dad again?" He asked. I squeezed my lips shut to keep from crying out again and shook my head. Jake said he would get here as soon as possible, but no part of me expected him to be here to see them be born. I was going to have to have a c-section all alone.

I grasped Oliver's hand tighter and he yelled out in pain just as I did. What a wimp. I'd like to see him in my position.

"This makes me want to be a nun," Emily muttered. Cole looked at her in horror. Oliver suddenly squeezed my hand hard and I yelled out, more from surprise than pain.

"See how bad it hurts her, Em? You definitely need to be a nun." Oliver said excitedly. I snatched my hand out of his and shot him a nasty look.

By the time the next contraction hit, Cole was looking rather pale. I blindly reached up and patted his cheek.

"Cole, why don't you and Emily go outside to the waiting room?" I suggested. Emily stood up but Cole stayed firmly where he was.

"No, I'll stay." He insisted. I screamed and held my arms tighter around my stomach. This contraction hurt terribly.

"Cole, go! You don't want to be here!" I screamed out between cries of pain. He shook his head.

"I'm not leaving you." He stubbornly said. I gave up fighting with him, and my doctor finally walked through the door. She took one look at Oliver massaging his hand, and me panting, and declared I was in labor.

"No shit!" I snapped. "Now make it stop! I'm a two weeks early!"

I miss Jake so much. That pain hit me harder and I wanted to cry. Cole was already scared enough. I was scared too. I was terrified. I don't want to have a c-section without Jake with me. I don't want to go into that room without a familiar face.

"Calm down, Mrs. Ryan. Let me check how dilated you are to see if you can get an epidural. Then I'll start you on drugs to try and stop your labor from progressing."

She motioned for everyone to leave. Oliver took Emily's hand and they left, but Cole wouldn't leave my side. I was stuck between being touched and forcing him out. I didn't want him to be scared.

"I'm not leaving her alone, just so you know." Cole warned the doctor. She rolled her eyes and set up the stirrups.

"Honey, you can leave if you want." I muttered, "It will be okay with me. Trust me, I've done this part a million times."

"No. I promised Dad I wouldn't leave you alone."

And that was that.

I placed my feet in the stirrups and Cole awkwardly turned around so he was looking at the wall. I shut my eyes and tried to keep from feeling as uncomfortable as I did. My doctor let me put my feet down a few moments later.

"Four centimeters." She announced. Already?! This was all their fault. What if they can't stop the labor? What if my babies die? I tried to think rationally. Two weeks isn't that long. Surely they'll be okay! If they weren't I would sue these fucking doctors. There should have been some sort of medical person in here starting me on the drugs a long time ago.

"Good news—you can have an epidural." She said cheerfully. She handed me a clipboard with consent forms. She began explaining the complications of the drugs, but I interrupted her.

"Save it. Here." I scribbled my name. "Just go get the damn anesthesiologist and get my epidural so you can stop this!"

She took the forms from me and left. Cole offered me a terrified smile, but I felt so sick I could have thrown up. I can't have these babies now. I can't lose them. I needed Jake. This would all be so much easier with him at my side. I started crying and Cole took my hand, convinced it was a contraction.

"It's okay, Mom." He whispered. He squeezed my hand gently and smiled again. He was such a good son. He was going to be such a great big brother. What would it do to him if these babies didn't make it? They have to stop this delivery!

The anesthesiologist entered the room and gaped at me. He looked like he had just gotten out of medical school. Great. I bet he paralyzes me.

I turned around in the bed before he could ask. I undid the ties holding the back of the dress shut and let them fall away from my back. I kept the front of it covering me, though, for Cole's sake. He nervously wrung his hands and his eyes widened when the anesthesiologist pulled out the needle.

"What is he doing?!" He exclaimed.

"He's going to numb me." I replied. This part was so familiar that the fear ebbed away a bit. The doctor rubbed the povidone-iodine on my back and I winced at the sharp pain as the needle was inserted. I breathed deeply to keep the pain away until he pulled the needle out.

"Do you think I could have your autograph—" He started.

"Get out of here!" I snapped. I closed the back of my gown and laid back down. He sulked out of the room and I waited for the epidural to kick in. It felt like a million years before my doctor came back in, followed by an ultrasound technician. They pushed the machine near my bed.

"We're going to check the babies, and then we'll administer the drug." My doctor said. I pulled the blanket up and then pulled my gown up enough so that all that was showing was my stomach. The technician smeared the Ultrasound Transmission Gel on my bulging stomach. She ran the transducer over it once the machine was started up. I watched the screen nervously, and smiled at the tiny hands and heads. Soon that would be in my arms. My children would be here. Two beautiful angels.

"Wait."

My doctor's voice was sharp. It made me shudder.

"What?! What's wrong?!" I gasped for air. No. Nothing is wrong. My babies can't be dead! No they have to be okay! This can't be happening to me today!

"Baby A is bradycardia. Her heart rate is lowering." The technician hurriedly wiped the gel off my stomach and my doctor rushed out of the room.

No. This can't be happening.

"GET HER OUT!" I screamed after my doctor. I heard commotion outside in the hallway and a minute later a wheelchair was rolled in. I sat in it and Cole took my hand. A nurse pushed me out of the room and I couldn't breathe. Oh my God.

"You wait here," She instructed Cole. "Your mother has to get an emergency c-section. No one else is permitted in the room with her while she's in surgery."

Emergency c-section? My head was spinning. No. No.

"Where is my doctor?!" I screamed. I grabbed the nurse's arm, "Please! Where is my doctor! What is happening! Please, tell me!"

She ignored me and I turned around. Cole gave another nurse an ugly look and took off running after me.

"Young man, you can't come!" The nurse repeated.

"Fuck you! I'm coming! She's my mother! She's not going in there by herself!" He screamed. She didn't say anything else.

I was rolled into the operating room. The nurse helped me onto the operating table and the doctor turned to Cole.

"You have to wait outside that door while we prep her for surgery. A nurse will let you in once the surgery is about to start." I guessed they decided their rule wasn't worth fighting Cole over.

Cole kissed my cheek—something he hadn't done since he was ten years old—and left. I wiped my eyes and felt even more terrified with Cole gone. Different doctors were all around me. One pulled my gown up and my gut instinct was to kick them. I breathed deeply and tried to calm down. My muscles were tight, like every part of my was having contractions. Oh my God. A nurse set up a sheet separating my view from my lower body. They fastened my hands to the bed and I was terrified.

"What is happening?!" I demanded again. They ignored me.

"Has she already been administered an epidural?" A doctor asked. The nurse beside my head checked the papers I'd signed earlier. I watched her wrinkled hands push the sheets back down.

"Yes. She isn't due for another dosage yet."

"Good."

My heart was hammering so fast it was making me sick. I cried to myself and I wanted Jake.

"I want my husband!" I voiced my discomfort. I cried harder and none of the doctors cared at all. "What is wrong with my daughter?"

The elderly nurse was the only one who seemed to know there was a person connected to the pregnant stomach. She sat on a stool near my head and stroked my hair back.

"Your baby is in fetal distress. Her heart rate is dropping dramatically. We have to get her out now to prevent death."

I shook despite the restraints. She stroked my hair back in such a motherly way that it helped. I felt something being rubbed on my stomach. All I could see were bright lights, the nurse's kind face, and the baby blue sheet standing in between me and my babies.

"Why aren't they getting her out?" I begged the nurse. I gasped and my heart hurt so badly. "What is going on?!"

She didn't reply and I sobbed so loudly one of the doctors demanded I stop. _Jake, how could you leave me for this? How could you leave me alone to face this? _

The nurse got up and I cried out. She can't leave me too! She came back a moment later, with my son at her side. I sobbed even louder and he sat on the stool where she is.

"Mom!" He exclaimed. He placed a hand on my head and I cried heavier.

"Oh, Cole, thank you for being here," I choked out. "Thank you so much." I never realized how much I needed him here until he was. His hands shook and I felt a strong pressure on my stomach. They had to be cutting me open.

"You're my mother. I love you." He said simply. I heard the doctors mumbling and I felt tears streaming down my face. My baby. My tiny baby. No. She can't die. Please. My heart hurt so bad, it was as if they were cutting that open. I thought about her tiny feet and her tiny hands. My Adeline. She can't die. She can't. She can't.

But she could.

The pressure continued then, but it intensified. I stared at the bright lights and couldn't move. It was as if my heart were stopping too.

"Do you remember when I broke my arm?" Cole whispered. I nodded painfully. "Do you remember how you told me to imagine I was on the beach?" I nodded again. "It worked." He promised me.

What he didn't understand was that it didn't hurt physically. It hurt emotionally. My baby. I can't lose another one! I just can't. I need these babies. I miss Jake. I want my husband here with me.

A strong and uncomfortable tug made me feel strange. I breathed heavier and another strange feeling came over me. I felt like something was being pulled inside of me, something attached so strongly that it could have been my heart.

And then I heard the first cry.

It tore through the room and I sobbed harder. One of my babies. I struggled to see. A nurse moved the blanket down so I could see. I overlooked the bloody and open mess that was my stomach and I choked back more tears. One doctor was holding a tiny, screaming baby in their hands. She was still attached to me by the umbilical cord.

Where was my other baby?

I looked harder and my heart seemed to stop when a quiet baby was pulled out. I screamed out and Cole asked the nurse what was happening. The sheet was pulled back up, blocking my view. I fought against the restraints.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY BABY?!" I screamed. I couldn't see past all the tears in my eyes.

The same kind nurse approached me.

"They are trying to get your second baby breathing. Your first baby just got her cord cut, and she's being cleaned up and getting her Apgar score." She explained.

I want my babies! Who do they think they are?! Where is my other baby? Why isn't she breathing?!

"What is wrong with Adeline?" I gasped for air.

"The umbilical cord was around her neck and cutting off her oxygen." The nurse said gently. No. I could feel the other doctors doing something with my stomach. I assumed they were getting rid of the placentas and stitching me up. Or maybe they were done with the inner stitches and were already stapling me shut. I didn't care. I didn't give a fuck about my stomach. I just wanted my babies.

"What is happening now?" I begged the nurse. There was a long pause in which I felt like stones were being pressed on my chest, and another cry filled the room.

"YES!" Cole jumped up in happiness. I watched as they handed him two babies, one with a light pink hat and blanket, and one with baby blue.

"A boy?" I asked.

"No. Baby A is in the blue. We wanted you to be able to tell the difference." A nurse explained. The doctors still wouldn't answer any of my fucking questions.

The nurse who had been comforting me undid my restraints and Cole gently set a baby in each of my arms. I couldn't see their little faces, but I knew were the most beautiful things in this world. I kissed each of their warm heads and cried harder than I ever had before.

I cried in happiness.

* * *

**JAKE'S POV:**

The plane landed, finally.

I shot out of my seat and grabbed my bag. I was able to carry my duffel bag as a carry on this time because the gun was still in Luke's living room. I pushed past everyone. I had to get there. I can't miss my babies being born. The last thing Cole had texted me had said that they were going to give her drugs to stop the labor. Surely she was home by now.

I pushed my way outside into the parking lot that seemed to go on for miles. It was lit up by hundreds of streetlights. I only had about an hour ride to the hospital in Malibu. I was going to make it. I couldn't let Miley get surgery without me there. She would be so scared.

My phone went off just as I found my car in the parking lot. I answered it quickly.

"How is she?" I demanded.

Cole sighed and he sounded exhausted. "She gave birth to two healthy baby girls twenty minutes ago."

My heart dropped. I leaned against my car and ran my hands through my hair. No. I had missed it. I had missed my daughters being brought into this world, and I hadn't been there for my wife. My eyes burned when I thought of her all by herself, being cut open. I stared at the moon and wondered how I had let myself do this to her.

"What happened? Why didn't they stop the labor?" Why couldn't they have waited, so I could have been there? I wiped my eyes and climbed into the driver's seat.

"Adeline went into…uh…fetal distress, is what I think they called it. The cord was wrapped around her neck. Mom had to have an emergency c-section."

I rested my forehead against the steering wheel. Oh my God. Not only did I leave her alone to get that done, but she had to have it done thinking her baby was dead.

"How is she?" I asked again.

"She's in a hospital room resting. She says she's perfect. The doctors let the babies stay in the room with her. They have little basket-beds and everything. They are so cute. One is blonde, and the other is brunette. But their faces look so much alike."

I smiled despite my guilt.

"Which is blonde?" I asked.

"Odette. They have the same color eyes, but Mom said their eyes will most likely change color when they get older."

I asked the question that was weighing on my heart.

"Was she scared?" I whispered.

"Terrified. I heard her asking for you. But she seemed to feel better once they let me in."

I lifted my head. Let him in?

"You stayed in there with her?" I asked. He paused.

"Well, yeah. You said to not leave her side, didn't you?" He seemed confused. I smiled so hard my face hurt.

"You're getting a car." I decided. "When we get home, once we all get settled, I'm taking you wherever you want to go and I'm buying you whatever car you want. Hell, you can get two. Thank you, Cole. Thank you for being there."

He was quiet for a moment.

"I just did what I thought was right." He muttered, embarrassed.

That made me even more proud.

* * *

**MILEY'S POV:**

I wouldn't let anyone but Cole come into the room.

Alana was getting pissed off. She didn't understand, though. I couldn't let all these people see Jake's children before he got to see them. They were his daughters.

Cole slipped back into the room. He sat in a chair beside the bed and I felt like we had been through a war together. I honestly didn't think I would have been able to handle that without him there.

A small sound turned my attention back to the babies in my arms. Adeline was sleeping soundly, her little chest rising and falling below the baby blanket she was wrapped in. Her cap had slipped back and fine, soft, dark hair showed. I smoothed it forward gently and kissed her forehead. Her tiny fist opened and closed as a reflex, and I fixed her hat. Odette was awake, but her eyes were still shut. She moved her arms a lot, as if she were searching for something. Her blonde hair was almost invisible on her round head.

They both had tiny pink hospital bracelets fastened around their chubby wrists. I was so glad they had different hair color, though. Their beautiful faces were identical. They were so light in my arms it was as if they weren't there. And they were _tiny_.

It was odd to feel so empty, though. My stomach still looked pregnant, but that was because my uterus still had to shrink back down to size. With every other pregnancy it was back to its normal size about three to five days postpartum. I didn't gain hardly any weight this pregnancy (as my doctors liked to yell at me about) so I wasn't particularly worried about my body. I could just relax and enjoy the two angels in my arms.

Cole kissed his sisters and left the room again. He hovered between the babies (who he was completely adorable with, by the way) and Emily. Emily was the only one who didn't seem to be upset I wasn't letting her see the babies. I think Cole will always be the only baby of mine that she would pitch a fit over.

My cell phone went off and I reached for it. The babies stirred as it rang, and Odette yawned widely. Her little nose scrunched up and I kissed it. I absentmindedly stroked their heads as I answered my phone.

"Hello?"

"Miley! I am so, so sorry! I love you so much. I'm in the hospital parking lot. What room are you in?" Jake's voice came out in a rush. Adeline moved and seemed to react to his voice. Tears entered my eyes and I kissed her nose.

"Room 310. It's easy enough to remember. 3/10 is our anniversary." Odette turned her small head toward me.

"I'll be there in a second. I'm going to run." Jake muttered quickly. The line disconnected and I giggled. I regretted it immediately. The nurses told me that as soon as my epidural wore off, things as simple as laughing, sneezing, or coughing were going to hurt like Hell. I could feel a small bit of that pain. The next time a nurse comes in here I'm going to take her up on the drug offer. Nurses came in here every ten minutes with offers of strong painkillers.

"Your daddy is coming," I whispered softly. Adeline's feet kicked feebly and I remembered the way that felt when she was inside the womb. Such tiny feet. I opened the blanket and kissed the tiny, socked foot. They were wearing thick socks, a hat, and a newborn diaper. Cole told me Alana had three gigantic bags of baby clothes with her. I wasn't surprised. I smoothed my thumb down Odette's cheek. My beautiful babies.

The door burst open and Jake stood there. I gasped. Blood was dried on his head and neck. He limped slightly as he hurried toward me and I spotted a terrible, black bruise blossoming on his leg.

"Jake! Oh my God! What happened to you?!" I stared at his cuts in horror. He had found Luke! He found him! But he was alive. My God, he was alive!

I grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to me. I kissed him until I knew he felt my relief just as strongly. He had tears in his eyes as he stared down and me and our babies. He pressed his lips to mine.

"I am so sorry." He held my face between his hands and kissed me twenty-three times, muttering apologies between each kiss. I finally pulled away and kissed his cheek.

"I forgive you." I granted him the healing words. He grinned in relief. He gently and tenderly reached for Odette. He cupped the back of her head with his palm and put his other hand under her small body. He lifted her and I scooted over on the bed. He climbed up beside me and softly cradled Odette to him. He kissed her head and laughed when he discovered she had his hair.

"Is this Odette?" He asked, his voice thick. I gently touched the cut on his throat. What had that man done to him?

"Yes." I carefully cradled Adeline and placed her in his other arm. "That's Adeline. Odette was born at 11:10 PM on November 11, 2024. She weighed four pounds and ten ounces. Adeline was born at 11:11 PM on November 11, 2024. She weighed four pounds and five ounces." I felt cold without them in my arms. He smiled so brightly it took over his face. I touched a bruise forming under his eye and his tears splattered against my skin. He kissed Adeline and she opened her eyes the moment his lips touched her head. She was going to be a daddy's girl, that was for sure. He stared into her dark blue eyes (they would most likely change color by the time she was six months) and I knew they had him wrapped around their fingers already. But that was okay because they had me wrapped around their fingers the first time they ever kicked me.

Jake looked up, as if he just remembered I was there. He kissed me and we both started asking questions at the same time. I grinned.

"You first."

He kissed my mouth.

"How was it?" He asked. I pressed my face into his arm.

"Completely terrifying. Why any woman would ask for a c-section over a vaginal birth is beyond me. It was the worst medical procedure I've ever taken part—no, I can't even say that. I didn't take part in anything. They yanked my gown up and tied me to the table. It was the worst medical procedure that I've ever experienced. The doctors wouldn't tell me anything. They ignored me as if I weren't the patient." I lifted my face and looked at him. "But it was so worth it."

He leaned his head on top of mine.

"I am so sorry I wasn't there with you. You did amazing, though. Look at these beautiful babies. You are responsible for them."

I shook my head before he was even finished speaking.

"No, really, I didn't have any part of the birth. They sliced me open and yanked them out. I felt more involved with the other births." I sighed.

He ignored my statement and kissed my head. He lifted his head off mine and glanced down at Adeline.

"I heard this one gave you quite the scare."

I stroked her tiny nose.

"She did. I thought…I thought that she was dead." I admitted in a small voice. Jake turned and caressed his nose down the length of my cheek (his hands were a little occupied).

"She's perfectly healthy, Mile. Don't worry. What are their Apgar scores?"

"Odette got a seven, Adeline a five. But that was on the first test. On the second Adeline got a nine and Odette a ten." Apgar was a scoring system designed to determine how healthy a child was one minute after birth, and then five minutes after birth.

He leaned his face down and kissed both their foreheads.

"Did you hear that?!" He exclaimed quietly to them. "You passed your very first test!"

Adeline's hands flexed inside her blanket and Jake moved the pink material back. He touched her hand and she gently wrapped her fist around his finger. His eyes grew misty again and he smiled such a happy smile that it made me grin so widely my face hurt. I reached over him and slowly picked up Odette. I cradled her in my arms and she opened her eyes. She stared at me with beautiful eyes and I felt so happy that I didn't know what to do with all the glee. Her eyes were big and full of emotions. She reminded me of Jake. I stroked her blonde hair slowly and her eyes fluttered shut.

"I love you," I cooed quietly to both of them. I looked up at Jake and jokingly stroked his nose too. "I love you, also." I said his in the same voice.

He smiled and kissed my hand. "That's good, because I love you just as much."

I looked down at our babies and back at Jake.

"Thank you."

He raised his eyebrow.

"Thank you? I left you, made you have to give birth to our children without me, and you're…thanking me?"

I leaned my head against him.

"I'm thanking you for loving me and I'm thanking you for them." I clarified. I could almost see his cocky grin and I guessed the next words out of his mouth.

"Oh. Well, next time just thank me for my sperm. It's much less confusing." He laughed and I laughed along with him.

"Can I ask my questions now?" I mumbled. I was getting sleepy. It was around one AM. My stomach was hurting more and more with each passing moment.

"Sure."

I gently touched his neck. "What happened?"

He was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, he sounded troubled.

"I found Luke. I didn't kill him though. I wimped out at the last moment." He admitted.

I found my eyes drifting shut and I settled Odette in Jake's other arm so I didn't accidentally drop her in my sleep.

"You aren't a killer." I said simply. I yawned and he laid down on my pillow. I laid down all the way too (before we were sitting propped up), and I leaned my head against his shoulder. How perfect it felt to have him near, and to have my daughters safe in his arms.

"I know. I feel so much better now. The anger is gone. I guess all I really needed was to beat the crap out of him."

His voice was getting distant.

"I'm glad. I love you." I whispered.

"I love you too. Thank you for carrying my children." He whispered.

I smiled softly. "It was my pleasure." I paused and pressed my face into his arm so that all I could smell was his skin. "Jake?"

"Yes?"

"You'll watch them while I sleep, won't you?" I struggled to stay awake long enough to get the words out.

"I will."

"You promise? I don't want them dying…like Izzy did." I finally whispered. He kissed my head.

"I promise."

I had almost forgotten how amazing complete happiness was. It was a bit like drinking too much wine. The last thing I heard was Jake talking to my babies, and I was willing to bet that I was the happiest woman alive.


	48. Rest

**A/n: **I am SO SORRY for the wait. I had so much I had to get done (and a lot I'm still not done with) before Friday. I really wanted to finish this story before then, but there's no way that'll happen now :( I'm sorry. I hope you guys won't forget me over the nine days I'm gone. The next chapter is a big one, and the odds of me finishing that before I leave are slim, but I will try. Thank you so, so, so much for the reviews and I'm sorry this update is such a short filler.

* * *

**"We talk about forever but we've only got today." -- Keith Urban, "Days Go By". **

* * *

I woke up to Alana's annoyed voice.

My face was still pressed against Jake's arm and he had pulled the blankets up over my shoulders. He was obviously agitated by the way his muscles were tense.

"You don't understand, Mom. I _had _to. She's forgiven me, so just let it go." Jake snapped. Where were my babies? For a moment I felt like maybe it had all been a dream, and I was still pregnant. Or maybe everything had been a dream, all of this, and I'll wake up in my bed as an innocent, sixteen year old girl who knows nothing of marriage or death or children.

I rolled over and sat up. My head was spinning and my stomach hurt badly. I winced and laid back down. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and peered up at Alana and Jake's faces. I never noticed, but they do look a little alike. I searched the room until I spotted my babies sleeping in the hospital-supplied cradles. I watched their chests rise and fall for a moment before I felt confident they were okay.

"How are you feeling?" Jake asked. He kissed my forehead and I smiled at him. He had cleaned the dry blood off him and he had Band-Aids over the spots that had been bleeding. He was also wearing clothes I'd never seen him wear before, so I guessed Alana bought him those. She seemed huffy.

"My son finally let me see my grandchildren." She accused. I ignored her words. I need pain killers. My incision was so sore it was making me nauseous. I reached over Jake for the call button and pressed it.

"I guess that answers my question." Jake's voice sounded guilty. I took his hand and kissed his shoulder. I asked the nurse for more pain medicine through the intercom.

"It's fine." I assured him, after the nurse ended the call. Alana turned around and started digging through the bags. I stared at her in confusion when she pulled out like twelve pairs of oddly-shaped underwear. They were normal on the back and sides, but at the front they dipped down.

"I got you these." She set a pair on the bed. I just stared at her. Jake seemed confused also.

"She has underwear, Mom." He said slowly. "Or did you not go pack her bag?"

I was so confused.

"What? Pack my bag?" I looked between them. I hadn't had time to pack a bag when we left for the hospital but Alana didn't have to go and pack it for me.

"Well, about that…I got lost on the way and ended up at the mall, so I just bought her everything she needs." Alana smiled and pulled a fourth bag up on the foot of the bed. Jake sighed.

"You have a big problem, Mom."

I picked up the green pair of underwear she laid on the bed.

"Why did you get some so weirdly shaped?" I asked.

She patted my leg. "You don't know much about this c-section thing, do you?" I shook my head in embarrassment.

"These are made for using after a c-section. See how they go down at the top? That's so it doesn't touch your cut. Can you imagine how painful it would be to have the waistband of underwear rubbing against your incision? You'll thank me for these when the nurses bring you the giant, white mesh kind they give most women." She nodded. I hadn't thought about that at all.

Alana pulled out a pair of soft, cotton pants, a roomy T-shirt, and a bra. I guessed it was a good thing she had gone shopping because I wouldn't have known what kinds of things I needed to feel comfortable. The last thing I wanted to do was stand up, but I wanted to shower and I needed to pee.

I waited until the nurses brought my medicine. I watched my daughters sleep in the mean time. Adeline had more hair than Odette. Or maybe it just appeared that way because Odette's hair was so blonde. They looked like Jake.

Once I was drugged up with pain killers, Alana and Jake helped me out of the bed. The moment I stood up I cursed in pain. It felt like I was being pulled apart at the cut. My skin seemed to be pulling at the staples and I feared my skin was being ripped.

"Ow," I grimaced and leaned against Jake's side. He stroked my hair and Alana squeezed my hand.

"I know it hurts, honey. No one knows better than me. I had a son normally and then had two girls by cesarean section. Although having Jake was harder than the c-section."

That woman is crazy. I would have had these babies normally in a heartbeat. Whoever invented c-sections is evil. I'd take labor over this burning, stabbing pain. I painfully walked over to the bassinets my babies were in. Alana already dressed them in baby pink onesies. They had soft, white socks on their feet and little bows in their hair. I stroked their tiny hands and leaned over to kiss them. My eyes were watering with the pain by the time I stood back up.

"You might have to go help her in the shower, Jake." Alana said nervously. Jake gathered my clothes, a bottle of shower gel, and some shampoo and conditioner. He helped me into the small hospital bathroom. He set them on the counter and started the shower while I peed. Sitting hurt really badly. I flushed and washed my hands. I stood in front of the mirror to examine the damage. I pulled my hospital gown off and grimaced at my stapled cut. It was horizontal on my lower abdomen and the skin around the staples was a bright, angry red. My uterus had shrunken a good bit though. I only looked about five months pregnant now, which was a relief.

Jake helped me step into the shower.

"Do you need my help?" He asked. I stood up for a few seconds, biting my tongue against the pain, and finally gave in. I nodded. He pulled his clothes off and climbed in the shower. He let me lean against him.

"I'm sorry." I apologized. He kissed my wet cheek and poured some soap on a washcloth.

"Don't apologize. I'm the one who is sorry." He washed my neck and shoulders and I gave up trying to help. The pain was making my stomach throb now. Jake folded another washcloth and set it over my staples to keep the water from hitting it.

"What are you sorry for?" I asked. He balanced my palm against his and washed my arm.

"Mostly things that I couldn't change. I'm sorry that you had to get a c-section. I'm sorry you had to be hurt while I get these babies without having to go through any of the pain."

I leaned my head back and kissed his skin. "They are worth the pain."

He wrapped an arm around my stomach (not where I was sliced open, of course) and leaned me forward. He washed my back and I waited for the pain medicine to kick in.

By the time he was finished washing me, the pain had dulled. We washed our hair in comfortable silence and I found it slightly ironic that this had all started with a shower, and it was ending with one.

He hugged me gently and kissed me.

"We better get out before my mother thinks we're doing things and gives me a long lecture." He grinned. I laughed and it hurt. Oh great. I live with two hilarious boys and they are going to be making me laugh every other word.

Jake helped me out of the shower and I dressed slowly. The bra Alana gave me matched the green underwear.

"I feel St. Patrick's-ey." I muttered. Jake laughed and it was hard to not laugh along with him. I pulled the gray T-shirt on and the navy blue, cotton pants. I had to pull the drawstrings tight and tie them to keep them on, because I had to keep them below my staples. Life is going to be interesting with these staples.

I dried my hair with a towel until it was just damp, and then Jake and I entered the hospital room again. Cole and Alana were on the couch, each feeding a baby a bottle. Walking still hurt, but it was bearable. I sat beside Cole and watched Odette. Her eyes were open and she was looking at Cole while she ate. I wrapped an arm around Cole shoulders and kissed the top of his head. He smelled like Emily's perfume. I guess I knew where he was.

"Thank you for staying with me back there." I thanked him again. He smiled and shrugged.

"No big. I don't get why everyone is so surprised I did. I'm not that big of a bastard, am I?"

"Language!" Alana scolded.

"Not every son is willing to stay and see their mother sliced open." I reminded him.

"I guess." He muttered. He kissed Odette's cheek and I couldn't stop grinning. One day he is going to make a great father.

Alana handed Adeline to Jake and made me lay back down. Apparently I would regret it when the pain killers wore off if I sat any longer.

"Can I see your staples?" She asked. I pulled my shirt up and she grimaced.

"That looks painful. But your doctor did a great job on that incision! Look how small and straight it is! That'll heal great." She patted my hand and I wanted my girls. But Cole and Jake looked so content holding them that I didn't want to take them away.

"They're beautiful, Miley." Alana whispered suddenly. I looked back at her and followed her gaze. She was watching Cole hold Odette and I know she meant all my children.

"They are." I agreed.

She was quiet for a moment.

"I'm glad my son married you." She seemed embarrassed. I smiled.

"I'm glad you're my husband's mother."

And everything was okay.

* * *

Things were hectic when the rest of the family got here.

The room was so packed that Jake had to lay on the bed with me, and Emily and Cole sat at the foot of the bed. Alana and Jim and my dad sat on the couch and everyone else stood. I had Odette in my arms and Emily was holding Adeline. Adeline appeared a little overwhelmed with all the people, but Odette was loving it. She peered around with wide eyes and kicked her feet happily whenever people talked to her. She got tired after a while and fell asleep on my chest. I stroked her soft head and her tiny chest expanded with each breath. She was so much like Jake already. I kissed her head and her hand was laying open, as if waiting for someone to take it. Jake passed me Adeline and I laid her beside her sister. I gently placed Adeline's small hand in Odette's and Odette's hand gently closed around her sister's.

Mostly everyone broke out in aw's and Alana took pictures like crazy. I stroked Adeline's hair. It was almost the same color as mine. They were so tiny, so small, and so fragile.

Oliver glared at Cole when he took Emily's hand and I decided to give them time alone.

"Cole?"

He looked away from Oliver.

"Could you and Emily go get me some ice? There's an ice machine on this floor but it's broken so you may need to go down to the cafeteria."

Jake helped the cause. "I'm hungry. Can you two also get me something for lunch?" He pulled money out of his wallet and handed it to Cole. They both jumped at the chance.

"Sure! Be back later!"

Oliver glared at me. I smiled innocently. My dad stood up from the couch and walked to my side. He kissed my forehead and smiled at the babies.

"You have some mighty gorgeous babies, Mile." He said. I smiled down at the girls.

"I do." I agreed. Jake cut in our conversation.

"They look just like her, don't they?"

Dad looked down at their little faces and nodded. "They do."

I frowned. "I think they look like Jake."

He smiled and kissed me. "You always think they look like me."

"Because they do."

"These look like you, bud." Dad took Jake's side. He touched Adeline's small back. "Especially this one."

"It's the hair." I argued. Dad and Jake laughed and I longed to be able to laugh without it hurting.

Adeline woke up and started crying. Jake carefully cradled her to him and she stopped crying almost immediately.

"She is going to be such a daddy's girl." I grinned. The sight of him holding her made me want to cry. His hand was as big as the length of her back and bottom. She laid on her stomach on his chest with her little face turned toward me.

I watched our babies sleep and my heart never felt so whole. It felt so whole that it was almost choking me. I took the tiny bow out of Odette's fair hair and smoothed it back with my hand. Her nose scrunched up in her sleep and I kissed it.

Life is good.

* * *

**COLE'S POV: **

I bought Emily and me a milkshake at the cafeteria and we sat outside.

"Don't you think you should get your dad the food he asked for?" Emily asked. She ate her milkshake with a spoon. Her preferred flavor was strawberry, which surprised me. She was always fond of vanilla when we were younger.

"He doesn't really want anything. They were just giving us an excuse to escape your dad's eyes." I replied. The early morning sun was glowing against her hair and skin. Her hair was up in a ponytail and I liked to watch it swish from side to side when she walked.

"Oh, that's what I thought but your dad sounded really convincing." She set her milkshake down and rested her head in her hands. She looked very tired. I was exhausted also. We had both been up for a very long time.

"I saw we go steal a hospital room and take a nap." I joked. She smiled softly.

"I wish." She traced the top of her cup with her finger. She looked back up at me. "What was it like?"

There were a lot of words I could have used to describe the birth of my sisters. Bloody, terrifying, stressing…and many more. But I knew the one she needed to hear.

"Inspiring. Uplifting. One of those words." I took a sip of my milkshake before I continued. "Sure, it was bloody and scary…but there are no words to explain what it was like when Adeline finally cried. I don't regret going in there. How many big brothers can say they held their little sisters before one of their parents did?"

Emily leaned over the table and kissed me. My dad was right. Girls love the sensitive type. When she pulled away she looked happier.

"Do you ever…you know. Think about having kids?" She blushed harder and spooned some of her milkshake in her mouth. I thought about my tiny sisters and the look of happiness in my dad's eyes when he held them.

"One day." I answered.

"Same for me." She nervously played with a bracelet. She yawned and I felt just as exhausted.

"Let's go find somewhere to crash." I suggested. She nodded in agreement and we threw our trash away before finding a waiting room with an armchair. I pulled her onto my lap and I was just about to drift off to the smell of her when someone shook me. I looked up into the face of a nurse.

"Who are you waiting on?" She snapped.

"Miley Ryan. Go away." I yawned, leaning my cheek on the top of Emily's head.

"Very funny. And I'm waiting on Bon Jovi! Go find somewhere else to sleep; we have actual families of patients who need these seats."

So Emily and I were forced out of the ICU waiting room. We took the elevator up to the floor my mom was on. I prayed no one was on the couch and entered her room. Her and Dad were holding the babies and watching something on the TV. The couch was empty. Score.

"Where's my food?" Dad joked. Emily stopped halfway to the couch and turned around. She dug around her purse and pulled out a granola bar. She handed it to my dad with a straight face.

"That's all ten bucks will buy you these days." She shrugged and then sat beside me on the lumpy couch. I counted to two before we both busted out in laughter at my dad's expression. He rolled his eyes and tossed the granola bar back at Emily. She caught it (which I found very impressive…we were both rolling in laughter).

"Your money was spent on some very delicious milkshakes for your favorite son and this beautiful girl," I slung an arm around Emily's shoulders and I didn't have to look at her to know she was blushing and smiling.

"Oh, okay then." Dad said. He turned around without another word. My mom seemed to be in pain. She grimaced and handed my dad Adeline. Mom turned on her side and I decided to take a baby out of my dad's hands. I stood up and walked over to the bed. I placed a hand under Odette's warm head. The hair was so soft. I placed a hand under her tiny back and lifted her into my arms. I cradled her and she weighed practically nothing but somehow was heavy at the same time. I guess it was how new she was to this world and how innocent she was that made having her life in my hands so overbearing.

I sat back on the couch. Emily leaned her head against my arm and I stroked her hair and watched my little sister sleep. The evil little voice came untied.

_One day Emily and I will be here again, except it will be our baby in my arms.

* * *

_

**MILEY'S POV: **

The day of my release was bittersweet. I was so happy to get out of the hospital, but I was a little concerned about not being at a location where I could simply call a nurse and get medicine pumped into my body. I was recovering slower than preferable, and they had kept me here for a week. A very long week. Jake refused to go home to sleep, so he slept on a hard camp bed the nurses rolled in for him. Well, he usually ended up beside me, but he always tried the camp bed for a few minutes. He was terrified he'd roll over in his sleep and hit my staples or something. The day before my release they had removed my staples and put these strange adhesive strips on the slice. They felt really tight against my skin, but it looked less gruesome than the staples.

Cole had stayed with Jackson while we were in the hospital. Jake and I tried to get him to stay at Alana's, but he said he was still pissed at her. Then we tried to get him to stay at my Dad's, but he had refused. He was the one who suggested Jackson's house. I'm pretty sure he only picked there because he knew Jackson would let him sneak out to see Emily at night. I wasn't too concerned about that for two reasons. One: I knew he wouldn't pressure her into anything or be stupid about it like he was with Lila. Two: Oliver wouldn't let anything happen under his roof.

I was glad Cole was having a chance to bond with his uncle more. I think Alana was a little hurt he hadn't wanted to stay with her, but she'll get over it eventually. Jake thought it was the funniest thing in the universe. He laughed for minutes on end when Cole told us he'd rather sleep on the couch than in Alana's house. I tried to scold him. I used the classic "One day your grandmother isn't going to be here and you're going to wish you spent more time with her!" but the fact that Alana barely looked over fifty kind of smashed it.

Cole and Emily were coming here to ride home with us once I was released. Oliver had to go on a business trip for two days and it took a lot of convincing to get him to let us watch Emily. His mother offered, but Oliver and his mother were constantly on bad terms with each other. They each had their own ideas about how a child should be raised.

When the two arrived, Emily was laughing and Cole looked ticked off. He sat in the chair beside my bed and Emily sat on the arm rest.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked. Jake was with the babies. They were in the nursery getting checked before we left.

Cole glared at the floor. "I thought you and dad were bad. The whole time him and Lilly were all over each other. Not to mention they both drank out of the milk carton! They didn't even use cups! Like I'm going to drink that after their spit-swapping mouths were all over it! It was a nightmare. I almost wish I would have stayed with grandma." He appeared to be done with his rant, but then he continued. "And you know what?! I think they did it just to annoy me! Apparently it was funny to make me uncomfortable." He pointed at me. "Are you going to let your best friend and brother get away with corrupting your son's youthful innocence?"

I snorted. "Right. Youthful innocence my ass. I'll talk to them, though."

He exhaled in relied and leaned back on the seat. Emily was still giggling behind her hand.

"What's funny?" He asked her in a sulky voice. She held his hand.

"I was just thinking about my dad's face when you told him that on the way over here. Especially when you talked about the milk carton thing."

I smiled. "He was probably getting a major case of déjà vu."

They both looked at me. "Lilly and Jackson did that when you were younger?"

I glanced at the clock and then back to them. "When we were younger, Oliver, me, and Lilly were all best friends. We did everything together. Jackson was around, but didn't really hang out with us. But you can bet if there was a milk carton anywhere in the kitchen, they were both going to drink out of it. Jackson and Lilly have always had a lot of things in common. Including being stubborn, which is why it took they so long to get back together this time."

"It is weird that I can't picture my dad as anything but a dad?" Emily asked us. Cole shook his head at her.

"I can't picture my parents as anything but parents."

I smiled at that. "Well, rest assured, we all had a life that went beyond driving kids somewhere once upon a time. Man, we used to do some crazy things. Just look up videos of Mike Standley III and Hannah Montana and you can see for yourself."

Cole sighed and looked at Emily. "I guess our kids will feel the same about us one day."

There was an awkward pause.

"Wait! I don't mean our kids and as in like the same kids and they're…they're both ours! I just mean when we each grow up…and have kids, you know, and…"

"I get it, Cole." Emily squeezed his hand. I hid a smile. They were so going to get married and have kids. I'd bet my house on it.

Jake entered the room with two pink bundles in his arms. He smiled at me.

"Tell Mommy about how good you did in the checkup," He cooed to them. He kissed their foreheads and then sat down on the edge of the bed. "They are perfectly healthy and for us to take home."

I suddenly wanted to cry again. We were really going to be able to take these babies home. It wasn't going to be like with Isabella where we tried to take her home and they told us she died. I painfully sat up and peered at their tiny faces. They were alive, and they were my daughters.

I refused to let anyone help me into the wheelchair, because that would be too much like the last time I was here. When a doctor came in, I was tempted to shove him back out of the room. But I listened to him talk about the next few weeks. I couldn't drive for two weeks. I had to get a prescription filled. I was to lay down as much as possible and couldn't lift anything heavier than my babies. Basically, I was prisoner to the living room sofa and the bed.

Once he finished, Jake discharged me, and we were free.

Cole and Emily carried the bags of clothes Alana had bought for the babies to the car. I caught them sharing a kiss right after they put the bags in the trunk and I smiled.

Jake fastened the girls into their carseats and I leaned against his arm. I smiled at our babies and he kissed the top of my head.

"Are you ready for the rest of our lives?" He asked. I climbed painfully into the front seat and kissed him.

"I've been ready for years."

* * *

She caught the phone at the last ring. She quickly answered, her heart thudding.

"Hey, baby." He greeted. She sighed in relief.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Luke? Just come home. Please. You just got out of the hospital, are you sure you're ready for something like this?"

There was a pause.

"Alyssa, I've been ready for years."


	49. End

**A/n: **So the appearance of this chapter is definitely owed to All-American Dork06. She pretty much forced me to stay up all night and write it. This chapter didn't turn out as well as I hoped, but I always feel like that. What can ya do? Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it. I'm off to bed, where I should have been the whole time (coughElliecough). One or two chapters left. If you haven't yet voted in the poll, that would be greatttt. :D I'll try to update before I leave, but if I don't, see you in nine days :)

* * *

**"Tonight we'll stand and get off our knees  
Fight for what we've worked for  
All these years  
The battle was long  
It was the fight of our lives  
But we'll stand up, champions tonight"  
-- Taylor Swift, "Change"**

* * *

My stomach started hurting the moment we pulled onto the interstate. I reclined my seat a bit and tried to lean back to keep pressure of the incision. I wished I could have gone to sleep to escape the pain, but everyone was choosing to honk their asses off today.

Around the twelfth honk, both babies started crying. I bit my tongue against the pain and sat up. I turned around and eyed them. Adeline looked very upset by the sounds of the interstate. She turned and hid her face in her carseat and her whole body seemed to wince. Her pain made me hurt even more. Odette seemed to just be crying for her sister. She stopped the moment I stroked her hair.

I turned to Jake.

"Jake, can we please take the back way? I really don't think Adeline likes all this noise." I turned back to my baby and stroked her delicate cheek. Her little hand wrapped around my thumb and it seemed like she was crying out for me to make all the noise stop.

"The back way? That will take us thirty—"

"Please, Jake." I begged. I leaned over the seat and kissed Adeline's forehead. I heard Jake turn the turn signal on and I felt him turn off onto an exit. As soon as we entered the quiet back roads, Adeline quieted down. Her hand fell slack and her breathing evened as she drifted back off to sleep. I stroked her face for a few minutes before I was convinced she was alright. I turned back around in my seat and sat down. I wanted to cry from the pain in my stomach.

"No! Why are we going this way?" Cole complained. I turned around and he pulled the earphones out of his ears. Emily and Cole were sitting in the very back. They were cuddled up and listening to Cole's iPod.

"Because the noise of the interstate was bothering Adeline. Don't complain or I'll make you walk home." I lied. He rolled his eyes and tried to hide a smile. He put his earphones back on and I turned back around. I breathed deeply and Jake gave me a disapproving look.

"Stop turning around. You're going to put yourself in more pain."

I leaned back down in my chair and shrugged. "I have to turn around, Jake." I turned the radio up and tried to block out the sharp, burning pain that was throbbing around my incision. The song was beautiful and I listened to it for a full minute before I remembered the name. As You Sleep by Something Corporate. I let the music carry me away.

"Oh great." Jake muttered. I tore myself out of the melody and back into the sounds of the car slowing down.

"What?" I rubbed my eyes and peered out. I saw a bright orange diamond shaped sign. It was in the middle of the road we were traveling on. It said ROAD CLOSED in heavy black ink and below that it said DETOUR with an arrow pointing to the right. I followed the arrow and it led to a small gravel road. The gravel road went about three feet before being engulfed by woods. Good thing we were in the SUV.

"I hope you guys have something to eat in here!" Cole yelled sarcastically. "Because we're going to be driving home for hours when it would have only taken us a few minutes going on interstate."

Jake came to a full stop in front of the detour sign. He turned to me.

"Do you want to turn around and go back on the interstate? Or take our chances with this road?"

I eyed the gravel. All that bouncing was really going to hurt. But I didn't think I could handle seeing Adeline uncomfortable again. I turned around, ignoring Jake's sharp look as I did, and looked at the babies. They were both sleeping and looked so content.

I turned back in my seat.

"Let's just take this road. Who knows, it might even be a short cut."

Jake nodded and turned the wheel. He drove forward gradually and the car hit the gravel without much jostling. He drove on the gravel slowly and when we entered the woods, the car got very dark. The sun was almost completely blocked. The trees still had leaves on them, despite the fact that almost all the other trees leaves had turned brown and fallen off. These were bright orange and bright red.

The car bounced annoyingly over the rocks. The radio started cutting out so I turned a CD on. It must have been one of Jake's because the first word in the song was fuck. I turned it and he made a sound of protest.

I sighed.

"Jake, how many years have we fought over the radio?"

He paused.

"Like twenty?"

I nodded. "Let's just agree to disagree on music and I'll put it on a CD that is appropriate for our children to listen to."

He sniffed. "Fine."

I put in an appropriate CD and I caught Jake nodding his head along with the music a few times. I turned toward the window and hid a smile. There's hope for him yet.

The road seemed to wind on and on. Cole and Emily kept laughing from the backseat and I hoped they were just watching a funny video on his iPod. My pain kept getting worse with every bounce of the car. It got so bad that I was convinced my incision had ripped open. I checked it, but the weird adhesive strips were still holding. The doctor said when I pulled them off (which I was supposed to do two days from today) it would be very likely I'd pull skin off with it. Ow.

"Do you want some Advil or Tylenol?" Jake asked. What I wanted was the Vicodin the doctor gave me a prescription for. I wasn't sure if all the medicine I'd been administered in the hospital were out of my system yet, and I knew I wasn't supposed to take any other medication with that.

"Later." I struggled out. We were deep into the woods when two things happened.

The first was a sharp, loud sound that scared the shit out of me. The second was the car spinning as Jake lost control of it. I shut my eyes and held onto the seat. I heard screams and then the car came to a jerky stop. I breathed slowly before opening my eyes. Jake's hands were still glued to the steering wheel. We were completely off the road, but Jake had managed to keep us facing semi-forward. I turned around and checked on everyone. Emily's face was white and Cole looked confused. Adeline and Odette were crying, but looked perfectly fine otherwise.

"Jesus!" Jake cursed. He unbuckled his seatbelt with shaking hands and opened his door. He climbed out of the car and Cole followed him. I watched them walk over to my side of the car. Jake tapped once on my window and I rolled the window down.

"The fucking tire blew! It must have been these damned rocks!" He cursed again and I leaned out of the window. Sure enough, the tire right in front of my side was blown. I leaned back in the car and sudden nausea from my pain overcame me. I leaned back out of the window, convinced I was going to be sick. Jake pressed a warm hand to my forehead and the sickness passed. I leaned back into the car.

"What do you want to do?" I asked. Cole had two cell phones in his hand. He shook his head at Jake. Jake pocketed one of the cells and Cole handed the other one back to Emily (who was still in the car).

"What?" I asked.

"No service." Jake said. He sighed and pushed his hair back. "Well, I've never changed a tire, but I can try. Isn't there a spare back there?"

I nodded. Cole pointed at me.

"Can't you change a tire? I recall a line in one of your songs that goes '_I could fix the flat on your car'._" He raised an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes.

"Honey, Hannah could fix the flat on your car. Definitely not Miley, especially not a Miley who was just cut open and had two human beings pulled out of her."

He shut up about it after that. I decided it wouldn't be smart to be in the car if they ever realized you have to use a jack to raise it up, so Emily and I climbed out. I pulled Odette and Adeline out of their carseats and cradled one in each arm. Odette looked around with bright eyes and Adeline stared up at me. Her tiny hand grabbed around my shirt and she rested her face against my chest. They both stopped crying, though.

"No! What are you doing up? Are you insane! You're going to writhing in pain for hours!" Jake exclaimed. He pointed back at the car.

"I can't be in there when you're raising it! I'll just walk around with Odette and Adeline so they can see their first trees." He glared. "I'll be fine! I promise. If not, it is my body."

His eyes softened. He set down the jack and kissed my cheek. He smoothed a hand over each of our babies' heads.

"Yes, but it is my heart." He reminded me softly. I kissed him and felt like I might cry. I kissed him again.

"Yeah, okay, stop!" Cole's irritated voice interrupted us. "We need to fix this tire! You can kiss each other later!"

Jake and I both laughed (it really hurt) and he went back to try and figure out the tire ordeal. I walked a few steps away from them. Odette found her surroundings captivating. Adeline even looked around a little bit. I walked around to the other side of the car and leaned against it. I was really hurting but I didn't want Jake to see it. I watched their beautiful faces look around before I looked around myself. The trees were so gorgeous. I sighed in discomfort and scanned the other side of the road.

Something caught my eye.

Directly in front of our car, there was a small hut. At first I thought it was an outhouse, but there was a small window beside the door.

"That's weird looking," I whispered to the babies. They both looked up with innocent, clear eyes, as if agreeing with me. I laughing painfully and kissed their tiny noses. They are going to be so smart and beautiful. I'm almost positive Adeline is going to be the shy one, and Odette is going to be a spotlight craver like Jake and Cole. I watched them for what felt like twenty minutes.

I sighed happily and looked back up. I completely stopped breathing when I spotted something in the window. The moment we locked eyes, he moved away from the window as if he had never been there. But I had seen it.

I held my babies tightly to me, hysteria rising inside of me. I ran so fast I almost fell three times and I knocked straight into Jake. He grasped my shoulders while I hyperventilated.

"Miley?! What's wrong?!"

I struggled to inhale and I noticed the tire was fixed. I ran over to the car and placed Odette and Adeline in their carseats.

"Get in the car!" I screamed at Cole and Emily. "Buckle their carseats when you get in!"

Something in my voice made them listen. They climbed in and each buckled a carseat. I had to get my family away. They had to be safe. He can't have my babies. He can't have anyone I love.

"Get in the car, Jake!" I screamed. He stood there.

"Jake! Get in the fucking car!" I screamed. I wiped my eyes and he understood. He moved to push me in and someone grabbed a fistful of my hair. I screamed out and from the corner of my eye I saw Jake rear back his arm. A moment later the hand fell free of my hair and I threw myself into the car. Jake followed me. He slammed the door shut just as Luke was standing up. I locked the doors and crawled over the middle consul into the driver's seat. The consul ripped at my incision and it felt like it was on fire. I gasped and shoved the keys into the ignition.

"You can't drive!" Jake screamed as the car roared to life. I ignored him. My family comes before me. I shoved the gear into drive and slammed on the accelerator. We all went flying forward and I slammed painfully into the steering wheel. The cars wheels skidded and slide against the loose gravel, but I kept holding down the speedometer. I had to get out of here. I can't let him kill my babies or my son. It can't happen. Not now, not that I finally got everything I have ever wanted.

When I realized it was a dead end, it was too late. I slammed on the brakes and the car went spinning. It slammed head on into a tree and for the second time, all I could hear was screams and all I could see was black. My head hit the steering wheel so hard I could feel blood dripping down from it. I gasped and listened. I heard the babies cry, and Cole and Emily's voices, and Jake set a hand on my shoulder. They were alright.

I started to lift my head but the back of it slammed into something hard. I yelled out and moved it back down. I opened my eyes. Because I had not been wearing a seat belt, I'd slammed my head into the steering wheel. Because I hadn't been wearing my seat belt, the branch that shoved through the windshield and impaled my seat right where my head had been missed me.

I grabbed Jake's biceps and pulled myself out of the driver's seat. I sat on his lap and took his face in my hand.

"I'm sorry!" I cried. He looked okay except for the fear in his eyes. I kissed his cheek. "I'm so sorry; I didn't see the dead end! I thought it really went all the way through!" But of course it didn't. Luke had planted that sign here all along. He pressed his palm to the cut on my head. It burned. I glanced behind him and Cole and Emily were consoling the babies.

"We have to get out of here, Jake." I cried. He moved his palm once the bleeding slowed and I pressed my face into his neck. This can't be happening again. "He can't kill them. Please. We have to leave."

He stroked back my hair slowly, and that scared me. It was like he knew we didn't have any chance, so he wasn't going to even try to escape. He was just going to spend the last few moments with me.

"We can't, baby." He whispered softly. He lifted my head and I followed his gaze. The whole front of the car seemed to be smashed into three big trees. We were trapped, just like Luke had always known we'd be. If only I hadn't driven so fast. Then I could have turned around and driven the opposite direction. I voiced my regret to Jake.

"He would have just shot another tire." He said. He was probably right, but I was still to blame. I'd made us come this way. Once again, my stupid foolishness was leading people I loved to their graves.

"What can we do?" I begged. He eyed the outside.

"Does anyone know where these woods lead?" He called loudly.

"No." Cole whispered. Emily was crying softly and he had his arm tightly around her shoulders.

"I guess all we can really do is go through the woods. We have a head start on him." Jake muttered. His eyes seemed empty. "But I can't guarantee it will lead anywhere."

I looked at our babies, these new little people who haven't yet gotten to live to do anything in their lives. They can't die. We have to do whatever we can to save them. I looked back at Jake.

"Okay." Cole and Emily started gathering things for our journey. I watched Jake pull a first aid kit from the door and put it in Cole's backpack before I continued. "But you have to go without me."

Everything seemed to stop. Jake's hands froze and he stared at me. Cole and Emily stopped talking and even the babies didn't cry. I felt warm tears and they blurred my world.

"What?" Jake hissed.

I wiped them away.

"I can't walk through the woods, Jake. I can barely stand for more than a few minutes. I can't slow you down. You have to go with our children and you have to get them to safety. I've lived my life. I've done everything I've ever wanted to do. They haven't. Please."

He glared. "Don't give me that self-sacrificing shit, Miley. You're going with us if I have to fucking throw you over my shoulder and carry you."

"Hell, I'll throw you over MY shoulder!" Cole screamed from the backseat. I shook my head, terror making words too thick to be spoken. I can't do it. I can't slow them down.

"Jake, please!" I pleaded. But I knew from his face that there was no room for negotiation on this topic.

I climbed painfully out of the car and Cole and Jake got things together and put them into Cole's backpack. I grabbed the diaper bag and put two bottles of water in there to make formula for the babies with. I also put changes of clothes for them in there and more diapers and baby wipes. Once I had everything, I slung the bag over my shoulder. Emily gently pulled it off.

"I'll carry that for you."

She walked off before I could even thank her. I held Odette and Jake held Adeline. I showed him how to wrap the blanket around Adeline. I had them turned to us so they were facing our chests. I wrapped the blankets so the only thing exposed was their tiny faces, and those were protected by the direction they were faced in. I didn't want snapping branches or bugs hurting their fragile skin.

We had only taken three steps and I was already in pain. I bit down on my lip. I have to keep up. I can't slow them down. We have to get out of here.

We started through the woods. Odette lulled to sleep and Adeline liked to stare up at her daddy. She eyed his chin for a long time. We had only been hiking for fifteen minutes when I couldn't go any farther.

I slid down and sat at the base of a tree. I tried to keep a hold of myself, but I succumbed to tears. It hurt so badly I was sick in the pine straw. My whole abdomen seemed to ache from the burning pain. Odette woke up and started crying. I held Odette with one arm and pulled a tissue out of my pocket and wiped my mouth off. I spit into the tissue to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth and I was crying just as much as Odette. I laid on the ground at the bottom of the tree because sitting hurt just as badly as walking. Odette curled up on my chest and seemed to like this position better also.

"Miley?"

"Mom?"

I heard the voices of everyone I loved so much and felt like killing myself right then and there. They are going to die because of me. Because I'm so damn weak, and I can't do this. Because I'm giving into the pain.

I was about to beg them to go on without me, to just leave me here, when Jake slipped an arm under my neck and under my legs. He pulled me up into his arms. Cole was holding Adeline. I rested my face against his chest and cried. He can't carry me all the way. He'll get tired. Emily pulled Odette out of my arms and Cole moved the blankets on Odette back the way I had them before.

"You can't carry me, Jake." I whispered against him. "Just leave me here."

"I can carry you and I will. This is what I've been working on my sexy muscles for." He joked weakly. He kissed my forehead and kept up a steady pace. Jake checked his phone for service regularly and I kept an eye on our children and Emily. What felt like hours later, Jake's pace was slowing. I touched his arm.

"Put me down."

"No. You can't walk." He argued.

"I can now. I just needed to rest. Put me down or I'll jump down." I threatened. He gently lowered me to the ground and the pain wasn't as bad. Cole handed me Adeline and took Odette from Emily. I wrapped her back up in the blanket that was protecting her and kissed her head. She looked at me with beautiful eyes.

"We're almost there," I whispered to her. She seemed to know I was lying. The longer I walked the more pain I was in.

"I'm hungry." Cole complained.

"Eat a leaf." Jake advised.

I stopped in front of a fallen tree. I sat on it and motioned for Emily to bring me the bag. Cole brought me Odette. I changed their diapers and pulled their bottles out. Jake sat beside me and fed Odette while I fed Adeline. They drank like they were starving. I pulled the bottles away when there was only half left. I put the caps on and put the bottles back in the bag. Jake wrapped Odette back up and held her and I did the same with Adeline. I was getting discouraged. I didn't see any thinning of the woods at all. What would happen if we tried to spend the nights in these woods?

We walked for a few more feet when I heard a twig snap behind us.

I acted fast.

I pulled Odette from Jake's arms and put her in Emily's. I placed Adeline in Cole's and made sure they had the bags. They stared at me. I heard Jake yell something and the sounds of fists making contact. I didn't have to turn around to know what was happening.

"Go back the way we came. Go back to the main road and get help! Don't come back! Don't try and help! Just go!" I screamed.

Cole nodded at me and I kissed his and Emily's heads. I pressed kisses to my babies' foreheads.

"Run." I whispered, just as a hand grabbed a fistful of my hair.

I was yanked backwards onto the ground. I watched my life run in the opposite direction and I wished Jake would go with them. If there was only me here the worst Luke could do was kill me.

I sat still on the ground and looked up into the face of my old enemy. Jake was on the ground across from me. He slowly dragged himself over the forest floor and closer to me. He sat right beside me and took me in his arms. He kissed me three times and I could only cry.

Luke raised a gun and before I could even exhale, it exploded. Jake screamed in agony from my side and my heart seemed to die. I gasped and all I could see was the blood leaking from Jake's leg and the pain twisting on his face. I sobbed and crawled down beside his leg. I pulled my jacket off and tied it tightly around the bullet hole in his calf. His mouth was open and he seemed to be fighting for breath. I grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

"Jake," I begged. He met my eyes and, oh my _God, _he tried to offer me a reassuring smile. I could have died right then and there. I applied pressure of the hole, but my hands were so shaky it was difficult.

"Did I say you could move?!" Luke barked at Jake. I couldn't stop shaking. All I could see was the pain on my husband's face.

"I hate to be cliché, but catching you two is just like stealing candy from a baby." Luke twirled the gun and I watched my tears land on the jacket. The tears mixed with Jake's blood. "The fact is—I'm just smarter than you two. I've outwitted you at every part of this game. I even convinced you I was dead for fourteen years! Do you want to know how I did it?"

Sudden anger overcame me.

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK HOW YOU DID IT! JUST GO AWAY! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" I yelled. Jake's hand stroked down my arm and I applied more pressure to his injury.

"Good. I'm glad you've expressed an interest!" Luke said happily. "Before I entered your house that day, I switched my wallet with my brother's. So when he died, and no one came to ID him, all they had was a license with my name on it. Of course I forged the license, so it had his picture beside my name. They buried my brother as me, and they dismissed me from the hospital as my brother. It's quite amazing what you can get away with when no one cares about you, don't you think?"

I don't care, I don't care, I don't care! I just want Jake to be okay! I just want Luke to be dead! That is all I care about!

"I thought about killing your babies, but I honestly found it tiresome and pointless when I can just kill the person you love the most right in front of you. Yes, I know, you'll deny that you love him more than your children, but we all know it's true. I have great things planned for you two, and I really do hope Jake can stick around for them!"

No. No. No. Please, no. Not Jake. Not my heart. His hand gripped tightly around my hand. _I LOVE YOU!_ I wanted to scream. But it would seem too much like goodbye.

Luke was at my side. He kneeled and laughed at my tear-streaked face. He pushed me roughly down at Jake's feet. No! I have to keep applying pressure to his leg! I have to keep him alive!

Luke held my shoulders down just like he had that day at the van. He pushed my shirt up and grabbed my pants. He yanked them down and he was going to do it again! He was going to rape me in front of my husband! Jake obviously thought so too because he kicked Luke with his uninjured leg. Luke sprawled away from me. He sat back up and grabbed the gun. He held it threatening.

"Do you want to lose your other leg?" He threatened Jake.

"NO!" I screamed. He grinned evilly. He set the gun back down.

"Didn't think so." He reached into his pocket and pulled out that fucking knife. He clicked it open and I watched in horror as he brought it near me. He poked the sore skin around the incision with the blade and I couldn't help but cry out. He pressed the blade down over the strange adhesive-like strips holding my skin together and I dug my nails into my palm. He broke through the strip and the skin and he pulled the knife to his right, pulling it through me and slicing me back open. It hurt so bad I couldn't even scream. I gasped and choked. I tried to reach my arm out to hold Jake back, but it was too late.

Jake kicked Luke in the face. I extended a shaky hand and grabbed the gun he had left sitting beside me. Luke's nose sprouted dull blood. It poured all over the place. I weakly pushed myself up and stared at my abdomen. I almost threw up in horror. It was gaping open. It was throbbing and burning and I guess this is what a c-section felt like without anesthesia. I pressed a hand over it and I could feel the gap between the two sections of skin. Blood leaked everywhere. I pulled my shirt off and balled it up. I pressed it to me.

In my horror at what he had done, Luke tore the gun out of my weak hand. He roughly grabbed my arm and yanked me up. I was so sick with pain I couldn't stand. I swayed to the side and Jake managed to steady me. He was leaning against a tree, and his injured leg was of no use. He was crying.

Luke turned around and dug through a brown leather bag. He pressed a handkerchief to his bloody nose and grabbed a second gun.

"I would really like to drag out our fun, but you are testing my patience." He loaded the gun. He held them both in his hands. I watched the black, metallic beast turn in his hands. The sun caught it, and it shinned brightly. It looked harmless for a moment, and I found it hard to believe this was going to be the monster that ended everything.

I looked up at him.

He took three, deliberate strides toward me. I instinctively tripped backwards, away from him.

"Please," Jake begged in a voice so broken I cried harder. His eyes never left mine as he placed the heavy weapon in my sweaty palm. It was heavier than I expected, and I staggered forward in surprise. He laughed coldly as he placed a hand on my shoulder, steadying me.

Then, he pointed the gun in his hands warningly at Jake.

"Either you do it, or I will."

His words brought on a round of hysteria. I sobbed heavily before I was able to form a full sentence.

"You want me to kill him? You want me to kill my life?" My voice was so shaky that I was surprised he heard me. My pulse hammered in my ears, and my heart was being shredded to pieces. I couldn't kill him. I couldn't kill him. But I couldn't watch him die either.

"Make your choice. Either I kill him and the last thing he sees is your devastated face, or you kill him and the last thing he feels is your touch."

I couldn't breathe. I looked at Jake and he was crying almost as hard as me.

"Jake…" I sobbed. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he shut it. He probably had no words for this moment.

I took one look at the eyes that I'd gazed into for over fifteen years of my life, and I made my decision.

I pressed a palm to my sliced up abdomen. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It wasn't supposed to go this way! We were supposed to grow old together! We were supposed to be there to watch our new babies grow; we were supposed to be there to see Cole and Emily get married! It wasn't supposed to end like this. But it was, and I had no choice but to do what I am doing now.

I walked up to Jake. I wrapped my arms around him as if this was the dance floor and we were sharing our first dance as a married couple. I pressed my face into his neck and I could feel his blood pumping. I kissed him and his arms wrapped tightly around me.

"I love you so much," I breathed into his neck. With my chest pressed against his, it was easy to believe everything was okay, if it wasn't for the gun in my hands.

He kissed me. "I love you just as much." He whispered. My heart was pounding as I stepped back from him. I pulled the gun out from behind his back and my whole body was trembling. I stared at it and wished more than anything that I could go back in time.

He was losing strength. He was shaking and couldn't hold his balance any longer. I watched his face and just when I knew he was about to fall, I did it. I pressed the gun to his forehead. I exhaled.

And I turned around, and shot it at Luke.

Jake fell to the ground in exhaustion just as Luke's gun went off. It missed him and went whizzing into the trees. My shot had clipped Luke's ear. It was leaking blood.

And a fury like no other took over me. He wasn't going to kill my husband. He wouldn't live to hurt anyone anymore.

I kept my hands tight around the gun. I placed my hands on Luke's chest and shoved him down with strength I never knew I had. He groaned in pain when he hit his head against a tree. I was holding the gun so tightly my hands throbbed.

I breathed heavily.

"You are a fucking bastard who is sick in the mind. Go to fucking hell." I pressed down on the trigger and the power of the gun shot me back. Luke stared in shock at the blood leaking from his stomach. Jake suddenly had me by the shoulders. He tried to pull the gun away.

"NO! He's mine!" I screamed. I jerked away from Jake and reared my leg back. I kicked Luke so hard between his legs that he screamed louder than I knew a human could scream. I felt adrenaline coursing so fast through my veins that my breathing was more like panting.

"That's for raping me." I said softly. He looked at me and his eyes shone fear. I loved it. I grabbed the gun again. I held it and shot him right where I had been shot.

"That's for fucking ruining my body!" I screamed. I turned around and my eyes scanned the grass. I moved away from his body and grabbed the knife that was covered in my blood. I ran back over and before I even realized what I was doing, I stabbed it into his arm. I stabbed it so hard his skin made contact with the handle.

"How does that feel?!" I screamed. He shook his head back and forth, screams slipping between his lips. I pulled the knife out and pressed it to his shoulder. I sliced him just as he sliced me.

"Do onto others as you would have done onto you, Luke!" I screamed. I kicked him again. "For someone that's supposed to be so smart you forgot that!"

I was about to stab him again when Jake restrained me. He held tight to me and withstood all my pushing and fighting.

"I HAVE TO KILL HIM! I HAVE TO KILL HIM!" I screamed. I was feeling so dizzy. I couldn't stop shaking. Blood was everywhere and I knew it was mine. I blacked out for a moment, and Jake was so concerned with me, that he didn't see Luke crawling away.

A shot rang out and Jake fell to the ground, pulling me with him. I stared in horror at the puddle of blood underneath him. No! No! Not Jake! Anyone but Jake!

I dodged a bullet and grabbed the gun I was using before. I aimed it at Luke's hand and when it hit him, he screamed and dropped his gun.

I aimed the gun and shot him in the chest. Then I shot him again, and again, until I knew for sure he was dead.

I dropped the gun and fell to the grassy ground. I pulled my body over to Jake's and I stroked his face. He was breathing shallow and blood was everywhere. It soaked my clothes and was so warm. I couldn't stop crying.

"Jake," I whimpered, "Please be okay. Are you alive? Please, oh God, please…" I pressed my face into his shirt.

"I love you."

His shallow voice and the faint sounds of dogs barking were the last thing I heard before I lost all consciousness.


	50. Peace

**A/n: **Last chapter! Special thanks to Jen (SVUlover) who helped me with the ending and gave me great ideas :D This has been an amazing year and x number of months and I want to thank everyone who reviewed and read this story. I had an awesome time writing this story and I hope you guys got some enjoyment out of it! If you did, let me know via review :) Also, I'm taking the poll down this time tomorrow, so if you haven't voted yet...you know where I'm going with this :P If I'm doing a sequel or not depends on the outcome of the poll this time tomorrow and if I feel like I can write a story that people will enjoy. Once again, thank you all SO MUCH for all the support. You guys rock my world :D

* * *

**"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres...And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love." -- 1 Corinthians 13:4-7, 13**

* * *

**SIX MONTHS LATER: **

I woke up alone.

I laid still for what could have been minutes, wondering why I wasn't used to it yet. But I guess some part of me still expected to turn over and see Jake sleeping beside me. I glanced over, but his side of the bed was made. His pillow was perfect and his blankets were tucked in. No one had slept there in months.

I forced myself out of bed and I stood in the middle of the bedroom, unsure of what I wanted to do. The babies were still sleeping, Cole was still sleeping…these were the loneliest moments. The moments when I had no one to take care of but myself. I wasn't used to be all alone. I guessed I'd never get used to it. I'd never get used to waking up and rolling over to find Jake's side of the bed empty. I'd never get used to going to sleep without seeing his face at least once during the day. I'd never get used to being without him.

I sighed heavily and tried to force the pain from my heart. I missed him so much sometimes. But I had two babies and a son that I had to take care of. I tried to tell myself it wouldn't be that long until I saw him again, but I didn't believe myself. My heart didn't believe me either.

I took a shower and got dressed as if I had somewhere to go. I put on a necklace he'd gotten me a while ago and twisted my wedding band and engagement ring around on my finger. My finger felt naked without them. It felt almost as empty as I felt without Jake.

I sat on the edge of the bed. The clock in the bathroom could be heard from where I was. _tick, tock, tick, tock…_

Time went by so slowly. I laid back on the bed and pressed my face into his pillow. The months had faded the smell of his shampoo. The months faded everything.

The air conditioner started up and a chill filled the room. I slid off the bed and walked over to his dresser. I opened the drawer with long sleeved shirts and froze. On top of a red shirt was a folded piece of paper. I hesitated, wondering if this was some kind of sick joke. The déjà vu was astounding. I touched the paper, a little unsure that I was awake. When I was convinced it was solid, I grasped my fingers around it. It was actually more than one page. I sat back on the bed and forgot all about my chill. Jake's handwriting. I started to read the letter when it was gently pulled from my hands.

I glanced up and an excited smile overtook my face. Jake grinned and I was in his arms. He staggered back in surprise as I flung my arms tightly around him. I hugged him as hard as I could.

"Did you miss me?" He teased. I squeezed him harder and kissed whatever skin I could reach. I let my face rest against his shoulder.

"No." I lied. He laughed and hugged me tighter than I was able to hug him. He wasn't supposed to be finished filming for two more months! He left to film four months ago and he had said it would take about six months.

"How did you get done so early?" I asked. He sat down and pulled me down in his lap. He wrapped his arms around my waist and turned my face. He kissed me and I had missed kissing him.

"I'm amazing." He answered simply. I leaned against him for a few moments before I remembered what I'd been doing before he got here.

"Hey, what was that letter you took from me?" I asked. I turned my head around and he had the most innocent expression on his face that I couldn't help but laugh.

"What letter?" He asked. He leaned forward and kissed me so torridly that all I could think of were the colors I was seeing behind my closed eyelids.

I broke the kiss and gently flicked his nose.

"Nice try. I want to see the letter. Pronto." I held out my hand. He simply stared at it.

"Jaaaaaake," I whined. I gave him the best version of my puppy dog pout and he sighed heavily. He leaned back on the bed, pulling me down with him. I landed on top of him. I rolled off and sat up, holding out my hand again. It's one thing for a mysterious letter to be in his drawer, but it's in a completely different league of weird that he won't let me read it.

He sat up also. I wanted to be back in his arms more than I wanted the letter, but I'd have years and years to spend in his arms. Blissful years that were a blessing from a force so strong it could only be God.

Six months ago, I woke up in a hospital room, completely alone.

Physical pain mingled with emotional and I laid there for two hours, soaking in it, before a nurse came in. With the nurse came my son and I remember missing almost everything she said to me about my injuries. I held him tightly and marveled the fact I had done something right for once. He was perfectly fine. A few moments later, Alana and Jim arrived with my tiny newborn babies.

But there was no Jake.

The only news anyone would tell me was that he was in surgery. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't relax, I could barely keep from having a panic attack. After what felt like days and days, we were told he was out of surgery. Luke's shot punctured his right lung. I remember, hearing that, it felt like the breath had been strangled out of me also. But he was okay. He was fine.

After I demanded to be wheeled to see him, my common sense took over. Jake…my children…me. Things this good don't happen to me. After Jake and I craftily retold our story to a detective, I asked about Luke. He told us he was dead, but how many times I had heard that one? It was like an overused knock-knock joke alcoholics told over their sixth shot. I demanded to see the body. This time someone was going to identify the body, and it was going to be me.

They brought me to the curtained off area, and time slowed down. It seemed to take me hours to shakily stand up. I walked over to the table he was on, and pulled the white sheet completely off his face. The tears streamed down my face when I saw him, and I'm sure the detective thought they were tears of regret. After all, in the version Jake and I made up, I didn't ever want to take anyone's life. I didn't have a choice. I had to stab and shoot him to keep him from hurting us, but I did that in hopes of not having to take his life. In the end I had to kill him because he shot Jake.

But they were tears of utmost joy, and I didn't feel bad at all for crying them. Because I had wanted him dead. I had wanted to see him suffer. I wanted to see him cry out in pain. There wasn't one minuscule part of me that wished him to be okay. I touched his skin and it was cold. He didn't move. I almost expected his eyes to jump open as I stared at his body. But Death—if it ever were a solid thing like it was in my nightmare—had him in his grasps, and he wasn't getting free this time.

I turned around from the table and I could only choke two sentences out.

"Alyssa and Caitlyn Mongelli. They should be called."

He may have been Satan's apprentice, but he was also someone's husband and someone's father.

I was released before Jake, but I stayed in the hospital with him until he could leave also. Cole stayed with Alana and Jim, except for a few hours every day when he went to the house to feed and play with Paint. The babies stayed with us at the hospital. I slept in an uncomfortable chair with them in my arms every single night for two weeks. And when Jake was finally released, we all went home, where we belonged. Two months after everything, Jake got offered a part in a movie. It turns out Orlando Bloom was supposed to play the lead, but they preferred him. When Jake heard they sent Orlando packing when he expressed interest, that about sealed the deal. I guess my sixteen year run of Orlando jokes affected him…just a little.

And here we were, sitting on the bed we've been sitting on for years. Here we are, playfully arguing over a piece of paper that holds maybe just as many mysteries as our life has had.

But who really knows?

* * *

**COLE'S POV: **

Emily came over for lunch, just as she did almost every day. Since my parents got out of the hospital, it'd been kind of a tradition to all have lunch together. Michael and Gavin and the other guys didn't understand why I stuck around for that, but I guess they wouldn't understand what it's like to see your parents lying unconscious in a puddle of blood. That sight had changed the way I felt about time in particular. When Emily and I had finally tagged down a cop, and by the time they finally got the search dogs out there, we thought it was too late. But somehow, everything had turned out okay. However, I will never take time for granted again. Just because someone is sitting right across from you doesn't mean they'll necessarily be there in the morning.

Emily and I sat down in our usual seats. We usually ate lunch at our current location—the back deck. When the weather was bad we ate in the dining room. It was nice and warm outside now though, so Mom and Dad and the babies were already out waiting. Paint was curled up under the table as usual, waiting for someone to drop something he could eat.

Odette babbled something when I sat down and I grinned at her. Odette and Adeline were the cutest babies known to man. They always babbled like they were trying so hard to talk. Adeline was currently in my dad's arm, which was where she preferred to be ninety-nine percent of the time. She was a wreck these past few months when he was gone filming. Odette was content in her high chair. She smiled happily and pulled at the hem of the little dresses she wore.

Emily touched my hand under the table and I turned to her. She smiled and her brown eyes lit up like the sun that was dancing on her curls. We were doing better than ever. She still made my heart beat fast and I still dreamed of her every night. That evil little voice that I tried to silence so much was slowly taking over, and I was letting it. After all, what could come out of spending the rest of my life with her that would be bad?

"How's school?" Mom asked. Ugh, boring topic. Why must the woman who gave me life always nag me about grades? I didn't even want to go to college. I had much different ideas in store for my future, but I didn't dare tell her what they are. She'd probably faint.

"Fine. Hey, Emily, did you tell her about the award you got?" I quickly changed the subject. Dad rolled his eyes at me. I listened to Emily's excited voice explain to my mother about the award she'd received for her dancing and took a bite out of my sandwich. Adeline smiled at me. I smiled back and she giggled. The laugh of a baby was the cutest thing in the world.

"What are you giggling about?" Dad joked. He tapped the tip of her nose and she erupted in laughter again. He lifted her up and kissed her cheek and she gave him her version of a kiss. Adeline had already mastered giving slobbery but sweet kisses. She pressed her open mouth the person's cheek. Odette hadn't quite caught onto that yet, but she was trying to sing more and more every day. She would babble in a sing-song voice. Whenever my mom sang to the babies, Odette tried to sing with her. Adeline was content with cuddling and giving kisses.

Speaking of kisses, my lips were really missing Emily's at the moment. Her kisses were a lot tastier than this sandwich, which was kind of gross. I was in the process of thinking up ways to hide in the bathroom with her when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Emily said cheerfully. She stood up and I quickly followed.

"I'll go too!"

Odette babbled something loudly at us and I heard my parent's laughter. Sometimes it was so happy around here it was sickening. But sickening in a very good, much awaited kind of way.

Emily flung the door open before I got there, and I could tell by her posture that it wasn't a good visitor. I expected Lila, or maybe Chris, or another one of my friends she didn't like, but I wasn't really prepared for who it was.

Caitlyn smiled at me when I peered out onto the front porch. She was actually covered up and didn't have any makeup on. She was still beautiful, something I unhappily admitted to myself. Emily still blew the gorgeous meter out of the park, though.

"Get the hell off my property." I hissed. The last thing I wanted was my mother knowing she was here. I started to shut the door, but she wedged her shoe between the door and door frame. I was seriously considering smashing her foot to teach her a lesson when she touched my arm.

"Cole, I just want to talk to you. I think you made a mistake—"

Emily shoved the door open. I jumped back in surprise and Caitlyn did also. Emily advanced forward and I didn't know if I should hold her back or not. This was so unlike her.

"No, I think _you're_ making a mistake." Emily snapped. She rested a hand on her hip and Caitlyn raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to say this once so you better listen." Emily muttered darkly. Damn, who would have known she could be so intimidating. "Cole doesn't love you. He loves me—"

"YOU DON'T—"

Emily cut Caitlyn off again. She turned to me and her face was so hard it was unrecognizable. I was so used to seeing her friendly, kind face.

"Cole, do you love Caitlyn?"

I looked past Emily and met Caitlyn's eyes. I felt bad for her. But not bad enough to lie.

"No." I answered.

"Do you love me?" She asked. I tried to bite back the smile, but it wouldn't stay away. I allowed myself to grin.

"Yeah, I do."

She smiled softly too, before she turned back around to face Caitlyn.

"See? You aren't welcome. I'm a nice person, Caitlyn. I hate hurting people and I hate causing discomfort. But by God if you don't get away from this house I'm going to kick your ass!"

Caitlyn snorted.

I could tell by the way Emily straightened up that she raised her eyebrows, and that she was pissed off. She advanced toward Caitlyn.

"You think I'm joking? Why don't you take one more step closer to this house and see if I'm kidding." She whispered. Somehow her whispering sounded scarier than yelling.

Caitlyn measured her expression and didn't move. Emily backed up.

"That's what I thought." She muttered. They stared at each other for a few moments before Caitlyn turned around sharply and walked away. Emily turned around and walked back into the house and I followed.

"I feel like a bitch." She whispered miserably. She sat down on the couch and I couldn't imagine how she could feel bad for being mean to Caitlyn, of all people.

I sat down beside her and pressed my lips firmly to hers. I could almost taste the shame. I pulled away.

"You are amazing. You didn't do anything wrong. She needed to hear that."

But I had that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I decided that it must be from those funky tasting sandwiches.

"Yes, I loved the little dresses! Odette and Adeline are wearing them right now! Yes. Yes. No. Of course! I—oh. I see. But—right."

I looked up when my Mom entered the room. She was talking to my grandmother. It was obvious by her annoyed expression and the way she couldn't get a full sentence out. She sat down on the armchair and readjusted Adeline in her arms. Dad entered the living room a few moments later, carting along a babbling Odette. She was kicking her feet and obviously wanted to be put down. He sat down on the floor with her and set Odette in front of him. She could sit up by herself now and liked to do that. Dad handed her a stuffed bunny and she slammed it into the ground. I caught my Dad's eye and we both snorted. What a sweet child…

But a minute later, to make up for it, she grabbed my Dad's shoe and proceeded to try and hug it. Either that or she was trying to pull it off…who knows.

Adeline was sleeping now, and my mom looked even more annoyed. Emily sat down on the floor to play with Odette. She was great with the babies.

"I know. You told me. Just yesterday! Oh. Well, you did. Uh huh. Right. Well, listen, I've got to—oh really? That's interesting. I've got to—oh." She shot my dad and pleading look. He lifted Odette and handed her to Emily. I moved onto the floor and sat where he was and Emily smiled at me.

I expected him to take the phone from her, but he didn't. My mom pulled the phone away from her ear and he stood a few feet away from it.

"OW! FREAKING SCISSORS!"

Mom ended the call with choked laughter. She placed it on the table and sighed.

"Well, I guess some things never change."

I glanced at Emily and caught her eye. And then there are some things that do.

"Hey, who was at the door earlier?" Mom asked. She shifted Adeline in her arms. I hesitated.

"Just one of Cole's friends." Emily said. Mom smiled and looked back down at the baby in her arms.

"Oh."

Later that night, I had an interesting dream. I didn't remember much about it when I woke up, except the fact that I was on a Ferris wheel.

* * *

**TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER: **

"Doggie!"

I looked up and followed Odette's gaze. Paint came charging out the backdoor and toward us. He slowed down and sat down beside Odette. She giggled and hugged the large animal. I smiled and turned back to braiding Adeline's hair. Both Odette and Adeline had the prettiest soft and wavy curls you could imagine. My girls were beautiful and smart and everything I had ever hoped for.

Adeline yelped happily as Paint licked her whole face. I leaned forward and smiled at her as she scrunched up her nose. Today was girl's day, and we had a picnic in the backyard. The backyard was level all the way past the pool, and then it went downhill and led to our beach access. We were sitting in the tall grass on the hill now. Odette liked lying in the grass and singing to herself and Adeline loved picking flowers.

Paint curled up between Odette and Adeline. I pulled a rubber band off my wrist and tied off the second braid.

I kissed Adeline's cheek.

"All done, sweetie."

She leaned back against me and ran her tiny hands over the flowers beside us. Odette shakily stood up and I quickly reached out and grabbed her upper arms. I had a fear that one day one of them would lose balance on this hill and go tumbling down. I helped her walk around Paint and she sat beside me. I wrapped an arm around her.

"Daddy read me Caterpillar today!" Adeline said happily in her tiny little voice. Adeline loved to hear Jake read to her. She didn't care what, but her recent favorite has been _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_ by Eric Carle. Odette preferred _Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed _by Eileen Christelow because she loved to jump on her bed and act out the book. Odette was a very social child while Adeline kept to herself more.

"And he read me the monkey story!" Odette exclaimed. I laughed and kissed her little head. Her blonde hair was so beautiful. Watching Jake act out the book with her was hilarious, because when he jumped on her bed, his head hit the ceiling. And yet he acted it out with her every night. That's a good father right there. Not to mention, he played every single one of the characters besides the monkeys Odette and Adeline played.

Adeline reached over and grabbed her sister's small hand.

"'_No more monkeys jumping on the bed!'" _She quoted in a stern voice. Her sister busted out in laughter and they laughed together for a long time. It just doesn't get any better than this. Odette leaned up and pressed her lips to my ear.

"Mommy, I got you a present." Odette whispered loudly. I bit back a laugh. She pulled away and I moved my mouth close to her ear also.

"What is it?" I asked quietly. She giggled and Adeline patted Paint.

"You have to close your eyes," She reached forward and touched my eyelids. I quickly shut them. She stood up and I figured she was reaching into her pockets. I waited thirty seconds before I got nervous.

"Odette?" I asked. I opened my eyes. She wasn't beside me anymore. I searched the area around me and I didn't see her bright green dress or her golden spun hair. I pulled Adeline into my arms and stood up. Paint whined when he sensed my worry.

"Where'd Odette go, Addie?" I asked. She looked at me with big, green eyes and shrugged her tiny shoulders.

I looked around me again. All I saw was grass and flowers. I climbed the hill a bit until I could see the house. I didn't see her anywhere near the house. How far could she have gone?! What if someone stole her?!

I was crying by the time I spotted her tiny, blonde head behind the giant Oak tree beside the house.

"What's wrong, Mommy?" Adeline asked as I hurried over to the tree. Adeline kissed my cheek and rested her head on my shoulder. "Poor Mommy." She cooed.

I smoothed a hand over her head but didn't slow my pace. By the time I made it to the tree, I was out of breath and torn between anger and relief.

"Odette!" I said sharply. I walked to the side of the tree she was at. She offered me a smile so much like her father's it was stunning.

"Here!" She exclaimed happily. I ignored what she was motioning at and sat on the ground. I pulled her into my arms and hugged her tightly.

"Don't you ever run off from me like that again, understand?" I scolded gently.

"You made Mommy sad." Adeline whispered to her sister. I held them both to me until my heart rate lowered and I was calm. I let Odette out of my arms and she moved over to where she was. She sat down and her pretty dress was going to be covered in dirt.

"Close your eyes." She ordered. I gently set a hand on her tiny knee so I knew she wasn't going anywhere. I felt her clumsily trying to tuck something behind my ear. I helped her secure it.

"Open." She said.

"Pretty!" Adeline exclaimed in delight. Odette picked up another flower like the one she'd just tucked behind my ear and handed it to her sister, and I felt like I'd just fallen into a pool of ice water.

Adeline's small fist grabbed the Forget Me Not, and she set it in her lap. I reached up and touched the petals of the Forget Me Not in my hair. I resisted the urge to get rid of it, because it would hurt Odette's feelings.

"Do you like it?" Odette asked. I lowered my hands and swallowed the past.

I kissed Odette and hugged her sister.

"I love it very much, Odette. Thank you. It's…beautiful." She beamed.

"I like mine too!" Adeline told her sister. I looked over at her and she had hers in her hand still.

I stroked my fingers through Odette's messy hair.

"Do you girls want to go inside now and get some ice cream?" I asked.

"Yes!" They chorused. I picked them both up and rested one on each hip. It was too long a walk for their little legs.

As we were walking, the wind picked up. I stared straight forward as all the Forget Me Nots Odette picked were lifted by the wind and sent spinning toward us. The girls laughed and reached for the flowers as they surrounded us. I focused on how adorable they looked surrounded by the relatively pretty flora and not on the memories the flowers carried.

When we reached the back porch, Adeline dove for Jake's arms. He held her and kissed me.

"That was odd," He motioned at the flowers littering the ground. I shot him a look only he understood.

"Tell me about it," I muttered.

He picked a flower off my shirt and let it fall to the ground.

"Daddy?" Adeline asked. He looked down at her.

"Yes, Princess?" She giggled at the nickname.

"I want to watch a movie."

"Me too!" Odette exclaimed. She tapped my shoulder and I met her blue eyes.

"Can we Mommy?"

"Sure." Jake and I chorused.

I started into the house, and when I turned around to see what was taking Jake so long, I caught him stomping on the flower.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Can't hurt anything, right?" He smiled sheepishly. I let Odette down and Jake carried her into the living room too. I lingered at the door.

I looked behind me to make sure Jake wasn't watching, and I walked to the same flower. I pressed my foot on it and turned, smearing it all over the patio.

"MILEY?"

"MOMMY?"

I stared one last time at the defeated flower and turned around, this time for good.

"I'm coming!"


End file.
